A Loud to Play
by Stall Walt
Summary: The Loudest Yard AU. Lynn Jr gets injured before she and Lincoln could pull off their switch plan. Will Lincoln be miserable for the season, or will he push himself to do something he never thought possible?
1. Prologue - Final Down

**So yeah, it's been about 2 - 3 months since 'Brave and the Loud'. And while Kaleidoscope is pretty popular (having hit like 200 reviews now), it is still supposed to be a placeholder, something for me to continue working on while I think of another full story. So let's start a new story, based on an episode with a topic that I'm a casual fan of.**

 **Yeah, this story is going to be a 'Loudest Yard' AU. And to shake things up for me, I'm gonna go ahead and write it in first person perspective.**

 **Feel free to comment on how Lincoln does not sound like himself if I do write it that way.**

 **Without further ado, on with the new story.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own 'The Loud House.'**

* * *

Sometimes, life can be weird, and you can find yourself in places that you never thought you would be.

I mean, take me for instance. Lincoln Loud, eleven years old, with barely any athletic talent or achievement in his life. If you told me a long time ago that I would be playing and enjoying football, and that my team would be depending on me to make a return touchdown happen during our final possession of the championship game of the state, I would say that you're nuts!

Me, Lincoln Loud, has to be the playmaker, the difference maker, the guy you gotta pin all your hopes on? What is wrong with you? I'm not good at sports! I can't throw, I can't catch, and old ladies on their scooters can literally drive circles around me!

Why on earth would you make me play football?

That's what the me of at least 4 - 5 months would have said.

And he would have been shocked at me now.

I raced down the field, my blockers struggling to keep up with me, my eyes dead set on the giant metal fork that was so far away. I couldn't look back, yet I knew that the teammates that were being left behind could only watch, counting on me to make the difference. That only made me hug our hopes tighter, making me draw out everything I had and put it into my legs.

I ran faster than I ever had in my life. My lungs ached, my legs were burning, every part of my body screamed at me to slow down. I didn't.

I wasn't quitting.

It still wasn't enough.

As I crossed the 50 yard line, balancing between the green and the white, I sensed something, and I wasn't sure how to describe it. It was like everything slowed down. The roar of the crowd, one half cheering for me to make it and the other half begging me to trip and fall. The sun somehow becoming more hotter against whatever skin I had uncovered. The turf sinking under my foot as I put my weight on it, ready to push off for the next step. The blocker to my side, Number 63, Ray, falling to his side as one of the Hazeltucky Hockers pushed him down…

Giving Hawk, one of the Hazeltucky Hockers that I actually can put a name on, a clear shot right at me. He barreled down at me like a human heat seeking missile, a grin that exposed his teeth on his face. He clearly wanted to smash me down, make the Hazeltucky Hockers the undisputed winners.

And I knew that I wasn't going to be fast enough.

Coach said that Football was a game of inches, where that smallest distance, a single second, could be the difference between winning and losing. I tried to run more faster, put more distance between me and Hawk. But even then, I knew that it was useless.

This was as far as I could go.

As Hawk got closer and closer, I braced myself for the impact, trying to make my body as relaxed as possible and closing one of my eyes. Throughout the season, I didn't get hit often, when the times I did…

There were reasons why my parents and sisters didn't want me back here on the field. Even then, I could see them on the bleachers to the side, their eyes wide as they realized what was going to happen and how they couldn't run out to the field to stop it. Like a car crash that was happening in front of them, they could only watch.

Mom had her hands on her mouth.

Dad was looking away, covering Lily's eyes.

Lori looked horrified.

Leni was crying.

Luna was silent, her mouth slightly open.

Luan was turning pale.

Lucy's worry was practically written all over her face.

Lola and Lana hugged each other, Lola looking away while Lana watched.

Lisa was muttering something under her breath, probably coming up with predictions and math to tell herself that I was going to be okay.

And Lynn…

Lynn was leaning over the railing, screaming.

"LINCOLN!"

Then something impacted against my side, digging into my ribs.

You know, before I went into this game, I heard on the news that some professional football player was starting a movement to not let non-high schoolers play tackle football. After this… I would totally agree with him. This really hurts, like why couldn't we play touch football or something like that?

Anyways, the force lifted me off my feet, and for a moment, I was weightless, flying through the air. I would have liked to stay like that a while. Unfortunately, reality set in fast, and so was the ground.

Just as I was about to hit it, I had two thoughts.

First, this was going to hurt.

Second, I was reminded of how this all started.


	2. Down 1 - Break

Well, some people are interested, which is great.

Have to admit that the first person perspective is a little weird, and I do hope that it doesn't become too offputting. I'm also going to assume by the lack of commentary that Lincoln didn't sound too out of character, so hopefully I'm doing something right here.

I'm also thinking of doing shorter chapters, that way I could get chapters out faster.

With that said…

By the way, Francis, what do you mean by NLF?

Also, on with the chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own 'The Loud House.'

* * *

It is a beautiful day today, I thought to myself as I walked outside into the yard. The sun was out, the birds were chirping, there was a nice cool breeze touching my face. It really was picturesque.

Something to enjoy seeing out my window as I read Muscle Fish #34 in the comfort of my own room.

Unfortunately, mom ignored all the studies I researched for just such an occasion and is really dead set on making me exercise. Seriously, I know that in our house, you definitely would have be stubborn to make my sisters do anything, but my mom is taking this thing of hers way too seriously. I mean, I did all the things she wanted to.

I went outside and got some fresh air. I'm pretty sure I got about five minutes of walking in at the mall, and that deserves some time at the arcade. And believe me, I really was following along on that aerobics thing, I just figured that I'd do some light reading too. Pretty sure the whole plan would have worked if the tape was a bit stronger.

But Mom has to be unreasonable, and sign me up for football. Football, of all things! I'm gonna get creamed out there, just because my mom thinks that I 'don't get enough exercise.'

Well, you know what they say, 'desperate times call for desperate measures.'

I heard the whirring of a engine as my sister Lola came into view, driving her pink little jeep. I took a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for what was going to happen. This was going to hurt, but at this point, it was going to hurt less than if I actually had to play human bumper cars.

"Are you ready?!" Lola called out, her jeep roaring out.

I bit my lip. Probably should find something to bite on.

"Hold on, need something to bite."

I looked around, before shrugging and picking up a nearby stick to bite down on.

"EWW! Lincoln, that's gross!" Lola exclaimed, wrinkling her nose and gagging.

Hmm, come to think of it, did Lola use this to play fetch with Charles?

NEVER MIND THAT, JUST HURRY UP AND GET THIS OVER WITH BEFORE YOU LOSE YOUR NERVE!

"OKAY, DO IT!" I screamed, closing my eyes and looking away. Lola's jeep roaring to life and tearing up the ground was the only answer Lola gave.

I gritted my teeth and squeezed my eyelids, just waiting for the incoming pain. As the jeep came closer and closer, I wanted to move my leg, my ingrained instincts screaming at me to stop being an idiot. With all the willpower that I could muster, I forced my leg to stay still.

Come on, Lola! GET IT OVER WITH!

"Hey, what's going- LINCOLN, LOOK OUT!"

Suddenly, someone pushed me back, sending me flat on my back with my legs up in the air before I rolled back and landed on my chest, my sight covered with the grass of the backyard. A moment later, a scream of pain erupted in front of me and made me look up. I gasped as I quickly got up and went over knelt down next to Lola, who had gotten out of her own jeep in horror.

We both looked at our sister Lynn, closing her eyes tightly and gritting her teeth as she clutched her leg, a giant red spot right on her shin. Lynn was able to open her eyes a little and look up at us, her lips slowly turning into a strained grin. I didn't comment on how I saw some tears that were coming out of the corners of her eyes.

"G-Geez, Lincoln, watch out next time…"

The back door opened.

"Guys, what's going- OH MY GOD!" My dad screamed as he saw Lynn's injury.

* * *

Soon, we found ourselves waiting in a hallway at the Royal Woods hospital, hoping that Lynn was going to be okay. Everyone was eagerly waiting for any news, even Lana and Lily, who I knew had trouble sitting still, might as well have been carved from stone. And me…

Well, helping get Lynn into the car, keeping her still throughout the drive, and having to watch her get wheeled in to see the doctor, it really sank in just how dumb my plan was.

I mean, if I did go through with it, I would have needed to see a doctor too, and I'm pretty sure that seeing a doctor that is not employed by your school means that you're going to have to pay them. While I'm sure that Mom and Dad would have gotten the money somewhere, that money would still have to come from somewhere, and considering that Mom and Dad also still have to take care of eleven kids, pretty sure that our finances might get stretched thin for a while.

And knowing that made me feel worse. I should have thought of a better plan to get out of Football other than that. Because of that, and my unwillingness to go through it, Lynn got hurt because of me. And if I know Lola…

"Didn't you watch where you were going, Lola?" Dad asked, looking at my pageant going sister. Lola froze for a moment, before immediately pointing at me.

"I DIDN'T MEAN TO. ASK LINCOLN! HE WANTED TO GET INJURED!"

I grimaced as I looked away from everyone's questioning looks.

"Geez, Lola." I groaned. "You don't need to scream or let everyone know."

"Lincoln...Look at me." Mom's voice was still, the sheer authority making me turn my head and face my mom. She looked stoic, just staring at me with an indescribable expression.

"Lincoln, were you actually trying to get Lola to run over your leg?" She asked.

I pondered for a moment about whether I should tel the truth. I sighed. Like there was any other option…

"Yes."

"Why?"

I sighed, hoping that the truth would make my mom see sense.

"I didn't want to do Football."

"...I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I said, I didn't want to do Football."

I looked up, hoping to see some pity from my family. I got nothing. As I looked from each face, I saw nothing but disbelief. On my face of my mother…

I really started regretting not coming up with a better plan.

"Lincoln… We'll talk about this later." Mom said finally as one of the doctors came out. All of us stood up as Mom turned away to look at the doctor.

"How is she, doc?" Dad asked, speaking for all of us. I hoped that it really wasn't as bad as it looked.

"She will be fine." He assured us, those four words letting us relax. "However, we will tell you that she should do anything physically demanding with that leg for at least the next two months."

I grimaced. We were coming up on the last month of summer, and Lynn was going to have to spend that and the first months of whatever sports she was going to sign up for on the bench. And I know Lynn enough that if you don't let her use up that energy…

The phrase 'Lynnsanity' stops being a joke.

And by the groans of my other sisters, they knew it as well.

"Still," The doctor continued. "She is healthy enough that she can go home with you today. Though we'll have to discuss the payment for your visit."

As Dad went with the doctor to discuss payment, the rest of us went to the lobby to wait for him and Lynn. As we did, Mom looked back at me. I shivered.

Yeah, I should have thought of a better plan.

* * *

The drive home was silent, no conversation was happening. Considering our last name and how fitting it was for my family, I would have liked to say that it was nice to have a change of pace for even a moment. I dared not sigh.

Mom and Dad simply stared straight, while everyone else either stared out the windows or down at the floor. Lynn looked down at the cast around her leg. I felt someone staring at me. I looked at Lola, who was mouthing 'You are so dead.' I looked away.

At this moment, it felt like I was being driven to the gallows or the guillotine.

The one time I wanted Vanzilla to go slower instead of faster, we rolled up to our house in no time flat. The doors opened and everyone came out slowly, with me coming out the slowest, trying to excuse my slowness by trying to help Lynn out of the car.

"Lincoln, just one of my legs are broke!" She said as she hopped out of the car, grabbed her crutches and made her way to the door faster than I wanted her to. I sighed as I made my way to the door.

Someone please just put on a ball and chain on my leg so that I can have an excuse to move slower.

As the door opened and everyone came inside, Mom spoke.

"Everyone, to your rooms." As everyone started to go up the stairs, I tried to sneak along with them.

"Lincoln, you stay here."

I really needed to work on my shealth. Everyone looked back at me like I was a dead man walking, before immediately climbing the last few steps and disappearing into their rooms. As the last of the doors closed, I swallowed and stepped back into the living room.

Mom stared down at me, while Dad looked away.

"Sit down."

I took a seat, looking down at the carpet.

"Look at me."

I looked up at her. A few moments passed before she sighed, just looking absolutely tired.

"Lincoln… Do you really hate exercise that much? So much that you're willing to break your leg?" Her voice was quiet, just barely concealing the fury that I knew she wanted to unleash on me.

I opened my mouth.

"Lincoln, don't answer. I was making a rhetorical question."

The sheer fear that I was feeling allowed me to ignore that weird phrase Mom used.

"...Lincoln, I want you to go up to your room, and bring me all your comic books."

What?

"What?"

"Bring me all your comic books. And I'm coming up there later to check your room from top to bottom."

"W-What are you going to do with them?" I couldn't help asking.

"I'm putting your comics away until you're done with Football. Me and your father already paid money for that equipment so you're going to use it. But if I find one comic that you hid in your room, or if I find evidence that you have been reading them while they were hidden, then I'm putting all your comics up for sale, and throwing everything that doesn't get sold. Do you understand, Lincoln Loud?"

…

ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! THAT IS SO UNFAIR! JUST BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO EXERCISE, YOU'RE GOING TO DO THIS TO ME! IS IT REALLY WRONG JUST TO ENJOY MYSELF THE WAY I WANT TO?! FINE, LET ME DO A CRUNCH, OR A PUSH-UP! WHY WON'T YOU LEAVE ME ALONE?! I HATE YOU, MOM! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU! WHY ARE YOU SO STUCK ON THIS?! I'M NOT GOOD AT SPORTS, GET IT THROUGH YOUR THICK SKULL! LEAVE THAT STUFF TO LYNN!

Lynn…

"Do you understand, Lincoln?"

"...Yeah."

Mom nodded, before pointing at the stairs.

"Go to your room, and get all your comic books. And don't forget what I said, okay?"

"Okay." I said dully, slowly getting up and climbing up the stairs. Every step I took, I wanted to stomp on.

I forced myself to take normal steps. I knew that our house was barely above being broken, and stomping on the stairs might actually break them. Mom would then have an excuse to actually sell my comic books then.

Making it to the top of the stairs, I saw that the doors to each of my sisters' rooms were open just a crack. I stared at them. Everyone closed their doors immediately.

Entering my own room and closing the door behind me, I stopped in front of my desk and stared at what was on top of it. Reaching out and picking it up, I looked over the football helmet, feeling the smooth surface and tracing each of the lines on the sides. I looked back at the rest of the football equipment, just sitting there.

I placed it back with a bit of forcefulness, knowing that what I really wanted to do would only get me in more trouble.

I know I'll think of anyway out of this, but for now, I'll have to accept it for now. I slowly pulled out all the comics that I had, stopping myself from sniffling so that snot didn't get on the covers. As I did, I looked over each one.

Muscle Fish. Ace Savvy. Tiger Square X. All the comics and manga that I had collected over the years were set out before me, and knowing that I wasn't going to see them anytime soon made my chest hurt.

"D-Don't worry guys." I found a tissue and blew my nose. "This isn't goodbye... Just see you later."

With that said, I gathered as many as I could in my arms, making sure not to crumple any of them. I looked back and grimaced, still seeing so many. I'll have to make at least a couple more trips just to give Mom all of them. I sighed.

Well, let's get this over with.


	3. Down 2 - Opening Day

_Sorry that this chapter is a little late. Let's say plumbing issues..._

 _Last chapter, got quite a bit of reviews decrying Rita's actions, calling her a 'bad parent' for doing something so drastic for something that is 'an accident.'_

 _Well, aren't we kinda forgetting that Lincoln was willing to get himself injured just so he didn't have to play football? I'm sure that if a kid we knew in real life tried that, I'm pretty sure the first thought that would come is 'Geez, kid, get a hold of yourself.'_

 _Sure, there is some possibility of injury in that sport, but it is not like Rita Loud just dressed Lincoln up in brand new football gear then signed him up to play for the high school football team. It's just pee wee football._

 _Anyways, I don't feel like I made myself clear enough here. Just know that that event ties into one of the themes, if not THE THEME, of this story. And if you really want to talk, come PM_

 _With that said, on with the next chapter._

 _Disclaimer: I don't own the Loud House._

* * *

"Dude, that's rough." Clyde answered me as he spoke to me through the walkie-talkie. I sighed as I leaned back into my bed, letting my other arm spread out on the bed.

It was the afternoon of Sunday. Tomorrow, Mom was going to bring me to my first football practice. I can hardly wait...

"I know. I'm pretty sure I'm going to be sore for the next few years when this is all done." I groaned as I rubbed my eyes. "There has got to be a law against this. I mean, I'm in decent shape, right?!"

"Well…" Clyde replied, obviously thinking of something. "There was that time that old lady drove past you, got her order and was down the street by the time you reached the ice cream truck…"

I sat up, shooting a look of annoyance at the walkie-talkie. Even the fact that Clyde couldn't see the look that I was giving him didn't even bother me. I hoped that he felt the presence of my hard expression all the way from my house!

"Why does everyone like to bring that up?!" I groaned, putting a hand on my face and letting it slide off, feeling the skin pull before returning back into place. "I wasn't even trying, I was thinking about what I was getting, you understand me?"

"Sure, Lincoln. And I mean that in a completely sincere way, not in a sarcastic way." Clyde replied. I sighed as I sat up.

"I know, Clyde. It's just… I really don't want to do this."

"You were about ready to break your own leg to not do it, I believe you. But I have to ask, was that seriously the best plan you could come up with? I mean, you would have to go to the doctor, get it checked out, get a bill, and then you'll have to walk around with crutches for the last month of summer and the first few months of school! That can't be fun…"

I grimaced. "Yeah, probably wasn't the best plan I could have come up with. Well, I gotta go now, I'm pretty sure that I will have to go soon."

"Okay, be careful out there, Lincoln. See you later." Clyde said.

I nodded. "See you later too."

Just as I turned the walkie-talkie off, someone knocked on the door. I sighed as I got off the bed and began to put all my football gear into the second hand duffle bag that Lynn once used.

"I'm coming!" I called out as I fitted everything inside. The door opened anyway. I looked back and resisted the urge to stare down. Well, speak of the person and they will appear.

Lynn leaned against the door frame, both of her crutches still tucked underneath her armpits. The cast that was wrapped around Lynn's foot and leg was already covered in get well messages from the rest of my sisters. I stared at it for a bit before mentally shaking myself out of it and looking up to meet Lynn's eyes.

Have to remind myself to sign something on there sometime.

"So… Mom signed you up for football?" Lynn asked, raising an eyebrow at me. I looked at the sports equipment I had on my bed and nodded.

"Yeah."

"Lincoln, Lincoln…" She said as she came inside my room, her crutches struggling to find the space they needed to maneuver. "Why didn't you tell me that Mom signed you up for Football?"

I blinked. I wasn't expecting that.

"Aren't you mad at me?"

Lynn's neutral expression didn't change. "Not right now. Might if you don't give me a good reason why you didn't come to your good old sister Lynn here, resident sports expert and master thank you very much, in the first place before trying to cripple yourself?"

I sighed, rubbing my face as I did. "Okay, okay. Mom said it, Clyde said it, even you said it. Okay, I know, running over my leg with Lola's car was not my finest hour. Can we please move on from that?"

Lynn slightly smirked. "Honestly, I'm pretty sure everyone, including me, is not going to let that go for a long time."

I groaned. "Joy."

"Lincoln… Back on topic?" Lynn reminded me, which brought me back to why Lynn came to my room in the first place, and why I was trying not to give away the fear I was feeling.

"Well...I...Um…" I scrambled for a better excuse than the one in my head, before I hanged my head down refusing to look up.

"I...panicked. I didn't think...at all."

I slightly leaned my head up, peeking through my hair to see Lynn's reaction.

"You panicked? Because Mom was going to make you play Football? Why? Football's awesome!"

I lifted my head and huffed. Awesome, she says. "Yeah, awesome for you. You're the sports nut of this family. I'm me. I'm not good at sports."

Lynn looked at me with a weird look in her eye.

"So what? You're afraid of Football because you're not good at it?" That strange look was replaced with a wide grin. "Well then, aren't you lucky? I feel in the mood to help you!"

I blinked. "Really, how?"

"I'm sure whoever's your coach is going to be too busy helping every other smhuck on your team, so listen up. Don't practice to hard at those hings, because you come back, you're going to practice with me!"

I opened my mouth to protest, because that is definitely not the help I wanted. As I did, I caught a glimpse of the cast around Lynn's leg. I gently closed my mouth.

All that took place in a moment, as I opened my mouth again.

"With you?"

Lynn nodded. "Yeah, think about it! A few rounds with me, a few tips from me, and we'll be seeing the next Joe Montana!"

I thought about it. "Don't you mean Tony Montana?"

Lynn gave me a weird look, before sighing and shaking her head. "We have a long way to go with you. Well, like I got anything better to do…"

"Don't you have summer homework to do?" I asked.

She stared at me evenly before walking out the door. "Like I said, like I got anything better to do…"

I sighed. Again, I would have preferred Lynn helping me find a way out of football entirely, but I wasn't willing to ask for more. Still, if she was such a football fan, maybe she should have been the one mom signed up.

...Wait. Did Mom have to include a picture of me when she signed me up? I didn't remember she asking me to stand still for a picture, or digging around in the scrap books for any disposable recent photos of me. For all I knew, that coach only knew my name. Heck, these football helmets cover heads and faces pretty well. All Lynn would have to do is to say that she didn't like to remove her helmet, and then she could run around saying that she was me.

...Wait.

...Dang it.

I turned towards my bed and fell forward onto my pillow.

"DANG IT!"

* * *

It had been at least twenty minutes since I had left my house. Dragging my feet, I looked off to the side, spotting another tree with a nice shady part under it. I sighed as I continued forward.

That marked the 7th spot I would have liked to read comic books under.

Going around the corner, I finally spotted the football field that we were going to practice in. I could see a few cars still lingering in the parking lot, and there were kids that were filtering into the field. All that separated me from the site that would be my personal torture was one last crosswalk. As I looked from left to right, I caught a glimpse of a car coming towards me. I wondered if it was slow enough…

...Wow, I really needed to get a hold of myself. I wasn't that desperate to get out of football.

Letting the car pass by without any white haired kids trying to get a better look at its bumper, I checked again before nodding to myself and crossing the street. Walking briskly through the parking lot, I looked at through the field. Everyone that was on it was already in their uniforms.

Though everyone looked unfamiliar, I spotted someone that looked familiar. There, in the uniform of the Royal Woods Roosters, a chunky guy with dark blond hair that stood up was talking to his friends that weren't Chandler. Looking at his thick arms and thick body, I guess he would have been a perfect player for football from the little I've seen Lynn play.

Looking back to the changing room that we were given, I went inside. In it, it looked like the school's gym locker room, with a locker for everyone to put their stuff in. Finding an empty locker, I stopped in front of it, put my bag down and started to take my shirt off.

Suddenly, the door slammed open as a pair of feet frantically ran inside.

"No, no, no, no! Empty!"

I jumped as I immediately looked to my side, the voice sounding out near me. There, an black boy around my age and height with dreadlocks was opening up his locker. Then, he stilled before looking at me. His eyes widening was my only warning before he screamed, jumping back and pointing at me.

"HOW LONG WERE YOU STANDING THERE?!"

I grimaced as one of my ears rang. "I was here first, before you came in. Actually, I'm pretty sure that was like 2 seconds since you came in through the door."

The guy shrugged, starting to calm down. "I can run pretty fast. It's a talent of mine."

"Why were you even running?" I couldn't help asking.

"Well, I saw that everyone was outside, and I thought I was late. Didn't help that me and my dad are new here and we were looking for this place for a, like, thirty minutes."

"Well, everyone else didn't look liek they were getting ready to practice, so I think you're good." I said as I looked down at his shirt now that he was facing me. The shirt had a picture of an athletically built man jumping towards me, his claws extended forward as his fae was covered by a panther mask. The text above the man proclaimed him as PANTHERMAN.

"Pantherman, huh?"

The guy looked at me before looking back down at his shirt. "Yeah, best superhero ever."

I pursed my lips. "Yeah, I have to disagree. Ace Savvy is the best hero."

The guy looked comtemplative for a moment, before shrugging. "Eh, he's cool. He's kinda boring to me."

My jaw dropped. "BORING?! How can he be boring?"

"Well, he can fly, he's super strong, he's super savvy, he's practically invincible! How am I supposed to care when it should feel like he's got it under control half the time?"

"Because the point of Ace Savvy is supposed that he is the best of humanity! Not just physically or mentally, but morally. He could have been selfish with his abilities. He could have easily taken over the world if he wanted to, if he put his mind to it, but he doesn't! He holds himself to his standards and never compromises them, and frankly, I think that's what we need more people like him today!"

At the end of my rant, I was breathing havily, the guy wide-eyed. After a while, I realized what I just did and grimaced. "Sorry, I get kinda heated when people say that Ace Savvy is boring."

He waved me away. "Nah, it's cool. Never really thought of Ace Savvy like that, and it does make him sound a bit cooler when you put it like that. Guess you really didn't like that Ace Savvy movie that came out."

I frowned when I remembered that terrible movie. "Ehh, I had better things to do than to type out how many ways I hated it on some forum. Still, congratulations on the movie too. Have you seen it yet?"

He shook his head. "Nah, not yet. Is it good?"

I grinned as I gave the thumbs up. "Worth every penny I spent."

He grinned back. "Awesome!"

I nodded as I turned back to the locker, before feeling someone tap me on the shoulder. Turning back around, I saw the guy holding out his hand to me. "Figure that we should know each other since we're going to be teammates and all. Name's Patrick, nice to meet you."

I stared at the hand for a moment, before grabbing the hand and shaking it, a small smile on my face. "Lincoln. Also, if I heard correctly, you're new in town?"

He nodded.

"Well, let me be the first to say welcome to Royal Woods, man. Hope you have a good stay."

"Yeah, thanks-"

A whistle interrupted the two of us. We looked at each other, suddenly very pale, before immediately changing into our equipment and running out the door. As we left the locker room, I saw that all the other people had gathered around the center of the field. As the two of us came to a stop near the edge of the crowd, I craned my neck to look above the other.

In front of them, a man who I assumed was the coach was standing in the front. He looked like a nice enough man, if a little paunchy. He stood silently as he waited for everyone in the crowd to quiet down.

Unfortunately, that looked like it wasn't happening anytime soon. There were still some people talking and joking with their friends scattered throughout the group, completely ignoring the coach. I saw that a few other guys, looking a bit older than all the rest, glaring at those people. I quikcly labeled them as the 'veterans.' Just as it looked like th coach was going to blow his whistle again…

"HEY, QUIET!"

The few remaining people that were talking instantly clammed up, and me and Patrick looked at the person that had shouted. I knew instantly who the guy just by the way he stood. Whoever he was, he had to be the captain of the team.

As he turned around, he certainly looked like the captain. Though he looked to be the same age and height as me, he held himself with confidence. His hair was cut short, his eyes were sharp, and he definitely looked like he could throw a ball very far.

Idly, I wondered if Lynn would have crushed on him.

"The coach has to say something." He said before turning back around. The people that were told to be quiet stayed quiet.

"Dang…" Patrick whispered. I nodded.

"Thank you, Terrence." The coach cleared his throat.

"Welcome to the Royal Woods Roosters. I am Coach Johnson and I will be coaching you for the season. I'm sure that all of you know that even at the Pee Wee level, Football can be a very dangerous sport. We will be observing safety as much as possible."

Well, that is at least assuring. Assuring that at least I'll be healthy and not becoming a pretzel by the end of this. Not so reassuring since there goes any plans of trying to get injured in practice.

"Still, let me be clear. Everyone will be working hard. Everyone will get a chance to play this season. And everyone will support each other, okay?"

...Nuts.

"Good. Now, our game is in three weeks."

What.

"For the first week, we will be working on everyone's conditioning."

I don't like that term.

"EVERYONE, LET'S GET READY TO RUN!"

Dear God, if you're up there, I ask in your name...SAVE ME!


	4. Down 3 - Desperation

Okay, I have to admit, I'm starting to get a little irked by the 'Rita is a jerk to force Lincoln to play football.' I also admit, it was probably only like one or two, but when I read those, I was like 'Really?'

Look, if I am to be frank, I don't think that Rita overreacted. In fact, I think she is just acting appropriately to Lincoln's overreacting. I mean, let's not forget that in the original episode and in this fanfic (do remember that this is first person so we are stuck in Lincoln's viewpoint and he might not get everything and/or refuse to get the point), Lincoln kept doing stuff that he shouldn't have.

Going for a run in the mall with Dad?

Goes into the arcade and makes his dad look for him for an indeterminate amount of time.

Living room exercise with Mom?

Tape a comic book to her butt.

Frankly, if he just did the work, do some exercise, then Mom and Dad would have eventually patted themselves on the back and just continued on, letting Lincoln be free. But no, instead he continues to be stubborn, and his parents eventually threw up their hand saying 'He ain't listening to us, so maybe he'll listen to a coach.' And here we are.

So to put it in a not-so-polite way, Lincoln screwed Lincoln. The story of his life, now if only he can stop copying and pasting it, or the writers stop doing that.

Still, I don't want this sound like I have a problem with your opinions. This is just how I see it with the experiences that I've had. Part of me admits that this story was slightly influenced during my high school years, when I used to do wrestling in my freshman and junior years.

Finally, me and my family will be on vacation for the next four days, so who knows if I get another chapter out by then. It also doesn't help that next chapter could be a bit bigger.

With that said, on with the new chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own the Loud House.

* * *

Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left.

"COME ON, LINCOLN!"

Almost there! Right left right left right left!

"Okay, pack it in, people!"

Everyone but me immediately started to walk away, a few chuckling about how they managed catch their breath before I finished my laps. I resisted the urge to collapse to the ground, instead putting my hands on my knees as I hunched over, trying desperately to fill my lungs back up with air. When I felt like I wasn't going to collapse, I gritted my teeth as I became aware of the pain in my side.

"Ah! Stitch in my side!"

"Put some pressure on it, Lincoln! It helps." Patrick said, having not gone with the others yet and simply waiting for me. Following his advice, I put a hand on the painful part and pressed on it.

It was slight, but any kind of relief was a blessing.

"You're right, it does help."

Patrick grinned. "Good to know. Come on, Coach probably wants to say something now that Conditioning week is over."

As I followed Patrick to the rest of the group, I couldn't help but look at him.

Compared to me, Patrick took to Conditioning week like a duck to water. While I struggled for breath, he was already already to go with only a couple of deep breathes the only sign that he was even exercising. And he wasn't kidding about running being his talent.

During some test that Coach conducted called the 40 yard dash, where we had to run down 40 yards as fast as we could, Patrick did it in about 5.2 seconds. Without even knowing how good that number was on the scale, I knew that was fast considering what I saw. Patrick was practically a blur, running so fast that he flew past the Coach and moved another 10 yards before he stopped completely.

I considered that it was because of the way he ran. Over the week, I saw that Patrick's legs moved more differently than everyone else. While everyone else ran, Patrick sprinted, every motion of his legs practically explosive as they lifted off the ground only to come just as hard. It looked exhausting, yet Patrick did it like he did it all his life.

Part of me wanted to try to do the same thing, if only to make my 8.00 time slightly less pathetic. I mean, my time was slower than Ross, and he was a pretty chunky guy. In case you didn't know, that's Chandler's friend.

Either way, my point was that Patrick was clearly going to be something in the team. Already, I've heard whispers from the others about how the Coach was going to make Patick the new Running Back. Again, I don't know what that means, but it sounded important and if that position involved as much running as the title implied, then I really did believe that Patrick was a shoo-in for that one.

However, this doesn't explain why Patrick liked to hang out with me.

I mean, from what I've seen, Patrick usually liked to hang with me the most during practices, shooting the breeze about comics during those few breaks that we got in between workouts, and I just can't figure out why. Did it really mean that much to him when I talked to him in the locker room the first day?

It's not like I dislike Patrick, far from it. As far as I can see it, he's the only thing I say that I look forward to seeing every time I come. It's just that I'm bracing myself every day when he starts finding other friends that probably share more interests than just comic books, like maybe members of the football team here.

As Patrick kneeled, I realized that we made it to the edge of the huddle as I thought to myself. I kneeled down, thankful that I could put weight off one of my feet. Just as I did so, the coach began to talk.

"Okay, everyone, good work today. Let me congratulate you all for making it through Conditioning Week. You all did very well, and you should pat yourselves on the back. You came into this week and came out better. Whether improvement was small or big, you should be proud of that. With that said, we got a game in about two weeks. So get ready to work a bit more. Alright, ALL IN!"

At that, every one of us crowded into the middle, putting our hands forward. Patrick tried so hard to put his hand forward that he pushed a bit through the crowd in front of him, making them move a bit to the side. I didn't try as hard, simply just putting my hand forward, it not even reaching the middle by a large margin.

"READY!" Terrence, our team captain and Quarterback, called out. Everyone else answered back.

"READY!"

"WE ARE THE ROOSTERS! ROOSTERS! WE ARE THE ROOSTERS! ROOSTERS! IT'S WHAT WE COCK-DO-A-DO-A-DO!"

With that scream of that last syllable, everyone threw their hands up in the air, me barely following a half-second later. I allowed myself to savor the moment of freedom, the fact that I had the weekend, two blessed days, to relax before I had to return to more sore muscles and stitches in my side.

Then I remembered what was still waiting for me after practice.

As everyone started to head towards the lockers to change, I followed Patrick back.

"So, did you see Pantherman yet?" I asked, which Patrick grinned.

"Totally and you were right, man! Worth every single penny."

I grinned back.

"Yeah, you remember that fight scene in the warehouse?"

"TOTALLY! Creeping through the dark, picking off all the bad guys one by one, then challenging the main bad guy one on one! That had me on the edge of my seat."

"And you remember the twin boat scenes?!"

"Oh my god, that scene was incredible. Just the way that prisoner got that denonator and said to the prison guard, 'Let me show you what you should have done a long time ago.' And then threw it out the window! CHILLS, MAN!"

"AND DON'T FORGET THE SCENE WHEN THE MAIN BAD GUY TELLS PANTHERMAN 'YOU'RE JUST A BEAST!' AND PANTHERMAN SAYS-"

""I'M A MAN!"" Me and Patrick said as we punched the air at the same time. Then we both laughed our heads off.

"Hahahahaha…" Patrick wiped a tear from his eye. "Man, I seriously didn't expect Tris Hatt to be that good…"

I nodded to leave. "Join the club. Well, see you next week, Patrick."

Patrick waved back. "See you, man. Good luck with that sister of yours."

Yeah...I wonder if what would happen if Patrick did meet my sisters…

* * *

"COME ON, LINCOLN! PUT SOME EFFORT INTO IT!" Lynn called out as she got ready to throw the ball again. I sighed as I got ready to try to catch Lynn's throw again.

Man, I really need to get these things washed.

"THROWING!"

Snapping back into the present, I saw the ball flying through the air. Tracing it to the end point, I immediately calculated that I wasn't going to reach it. Still, Lynn's gaze made me try.

Just as the ball reached a certain distance from the ground, I jumped forward, hands outstretched to catch the ball. My hands only managed to graze the leather before it slipped through my hands entirely and fell to the ground. I continued flying forward before impacting against the ground.

I laid on the ground, trying desperately to catch my breath, the feeling of grass bunched up in my face. Hearing the sounds of footsteps and crutches crushing the grass under them, I tried to stand up. Finding my motivation to do so completely spent, I merely rolled over to my back, looking up at Lynn.

"Lincoln…" She sighed sadly. "It's been a week since I started training. That was a textbook pass, bro. How are you missing it?"

Because I'm still tired from practice earlier? Because I don't really even want to get better at football? I mean, I still managed to graze it, that has to be better than like a week ago, when I couldn't even reach it. Yet that's not good enough for you, is it? You are really stuck on trying to make me the next Randy Quaid. Or was it Randy Moss?

I wanted to say any of those things. I looked at the cast around her leg. I put a lid on those things as I thought of something else to say.

"It's not your fault, Lynn. I guess I'm not just good at sports, period." I said as I sat up.

"Boy, you're going to have a rough time when they make you play…" Lynn tsk'ed. I stared at her incredulously.

"Wait. That's a thing?!" I shook my head. "I can't go out there! I stink! You seen me, Lynn. Heck, you tried to make me better!"

"Well, you did get better. You can now touch the ball." Lynn praised, though I could already hear the unspoken words she didn't want to say. 'So why can't you catch it?'

But nevermind that, I had to think of something to get me out of the coming game. Looking at Lynn, I suddenly got an idea. It wasn't going to solve the problem that I was going to have in about two weeks, but it was going to help with the rest of the season.

"Hey, Lynn. You know, I've been thinking…"

"Well, you do that better than sports, I'll admit…"

"When you get better and your leg heals alright, we could probably switch. Like you go to all the practices and games as me."

"...Don't you think that your teammates will notice something?"

I shook my head. "Nah, I've been flying under the radar for the most part, nobody's gonna to miss me."

Except that wasn't true, was it? Patrick was definitely going to notice something was up. Still, I suppose that if Lynn does accept this plan, I'll have to start distancing myself from Patrick. I was going to miss being able to talk comic books and comic book movies with him, but I figure that he could always find other friends to do that with.

"Well, I could use a new sport, and I definitely gonna have a lot of energy to burn when this leg of mine gets healed… SURE!"

"Alright, put it there." I said, extending my hand. Lynn took it and shook it.

* * *

"Clyde, you wouldn't happen to have an idea for me get out of playing for the next game, would you?" I asked Clyde as we talked on the walkie-talkie. I was currently sprawled on my bed, the soreness of my muscles reminding me why I had to get out of doing football every single minute.

"No offense, Lincoln, is it really that bad?" Clyde asked. I sat up in my bed incredulously. "I mean, you got past Conditioning week and that frankly sounds pretty rough, yet you managed to get through it just fine, from what I can hear."

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME, CLYDE?! I'M HURTING HERE! I have aches and pains in places where I didn't know could ache! I'm starting to develop a phobia for tires and the word 'scramble.' Sure, I can survive, but I WANT TO LIVE!"

"...No offense, but if you really didn't want to play football, maybe you should have just stayed quiet and do the exercises. Believe me, my dads sometimes get on me for my unhealthy habits, after the few times I tried to resist them, I find that it's easier to just give them what they want and let them walk away, convinced that they done something."

I frowned. "Thank you, Captain Obvious. Now can you help me think of something?"

"Well...What do you got so far?"

I sighed. "Right now, the only idea I have is to not show up to the game."

I could practically see Clyde shake his head before he responded back. "That won't do, Lincoln. Pretty sure that whatever papers that your parents signed when they enrolled you, they also made the Coach your guardian for the few hours he has you. He'll probably have to report your disappearance to your parents if you go missing. Well… What is the Coach like?"

I sighed. "He's nice."

As much as I wanted to execute that plan, I didn't want to get the guy in trouble. Discounting my experiences, he did seem like a nice guy that gave breaks, impressed on us the importance of hydration, and seemed willing to help anyone that wanted some pointers. If only he was bit more of a jerk…

"Okay, putting a kibosh on that plan…" I sighed, immediately wiping any possibility of that plan from my head.

"Well, short of breaking your leg, I think the only thing you could do is mess up so badly that the coach wouldn't put you in any other games."

...That's it.

"THAT'S IT!" I said, excitement blooming on my face. "If I can screw up badly enough, then coach will have to put me out of the game and any other games in the future. He won't get on my case as much, and he won't look so closely when me and Lynn make the switch! You're a genius, Clyde. I gotta go now, I gotta think how to pull this off!"

Turning off the walkie-talkie, I tossed it onto my bed as I looked over my football equipment, looking for something that could help me pull this off…

Sure, I would still not have my comic books. But at this point, I would gladly go without Ace Savvy and Muscle Fish for six months as long as I didn't have to go practice.

Spotting, I smirked as I formulated my plan...


	5. Down 4 - First Game

**Well, did this one in about five days. Hopefully, the longer length makes up for the delay.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the Loud House.**

* * *

I opened the door slightly, the smallest crack to allow one of my eyes to peek out. Sweeping the area with my eye, and keeping track of every noise with my ears, I smiled as I confirmed that everyone on the floor was either not there or was busy with something.

More importantly, it meant that she wasn't going to be there to stop me.

Slowing sliding out of my room and closing the door so gently that it barely made a noise as it clicked, I looked around one more time. No one had had popped their heads out to check, including her. Good.

Carefully, I tip-toed through the hallway, mentally patting myself on the back for my stealth. Seriously, if the situation was any less perilous, I would actually pat myself on the back, physically. Right, all my mental faculties were currently focused on the task before me.

Finally, I managed to make it to my destination. Making one more look around, I opened the door and gently peered inside. There, like an oasis before a weary desert traveler, was my salvation. I crept inside, locked the door, walked closely to my goal, then put my hands around the waistband of my pants…

"LINCOLN, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!"

I froze for a moment before trying to get my pants off and sit on the toilet. I've been compromised, but if I could just pull it off, my mission will still be complete. Now if only my pants COULD COOPERATE AND ACTUALLY ALLOW THEM TO BE TAKEN OFF, THAT WOULD BE NICE!

"OH NO, YOU DON'T!"

NOOOOOOO! Let me go, Lynn! "I NEED TO GO!"

"Sorry, bro. Can't do that." She said as she dragged me out of the bathroom, her lone arm like an iron bar. "Come on, stop struggling. You're making this harder on both of this and you're going to rip your jersey."

Grabbing her other crutch, she closed the door with it and used it to block me from trying to open it again. Backing away, I wanted to glare at Lynn, just communicate how much I despised her and how her dumb superstitions were going to be the death of me. Then I heard a rumble, before a sharp pressure made itself known around my midsection, making me clutch it just to relieve some of the pressure.

"Why are you making me do this anyway? It's been at least three days since you made me stop going to the bathroom."

Lynn leaned on one of her crutches.

"Well, Lincoln, think of it like this: until you become number one, you don't get to take a number two. But please do take plenty of number ones. And considering you're also not going to be able to contribute to your team gameplay-wise, you might as well as support your teammates any way you can."

I looked absolutely blown away by Lynn's logic, in that I was completely blown away by just how wrong she was.

"How does me not getting to sit on the porcelain make my team play better? Heck, you don't even know the team that well!" I said with all the conviction I had.

I really meant every word. Even without any real knowledge of Football, I could tell the team was a seriously powerful team. They had strong players for protecting the guy that threw the ball and stopping other people from moving with the ball, Terrence was a natural born leader from what I had seen, and I doubted that a fully healed Lynn could even touch Patrick when he got really serious. They were so powerful, I was sure that my plan would work and they would still be able to carry on normally.

Lynn didn't look impressed by my outburst.

"Lincoln, I played a lot of sports, and I think I'm a little more qualified to tell about what happens in them. In sports, let me tell you, no matter how much you train or prepare, sometimes it is the smallest things, the smallest chances that can be the thing between defeat and victory. Who knows? I'm just trying to make that small thing isn't going to be you the only way I know you can do." she finished by patting me on the shoulder.

…

"Well, thanks for the concern, Lynn." I said as I removed her hand from my shoulder. "But I bet the team will do fine regardless of what I did and didn't do."

I went into my room, grabbed my equipment, walked out and started to walk down the stairs. Hearing footsteps and crutches behind me, I turned around to face the top of the stairs. There, Lynn stood there, her expression showing her concern for me.

"Now please excuse me, I'm got to go now."

And hopefully find a bathroom on the way there.

* * *

...HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE? I literally walked into the parking lot, feeling a little peeved. Practically everywhere I looked, each bathroom that had found was either only for paying customers or already occupied. And now I spent so much time that I'm late!

Of all the darned lu- NO. Don't say it. Don't you dare say it. You know that it is Lynn's fault for making you even do that, and even went to make sure that you got a chance to go.

Still, good thing that she didn't try to stop you going number one. I mean me. Wow, I really need to go now.

Just as I was about to go through the parking lot, a car came roaring into the lot and managed to park itself into a nearby parking lot without crashing. I blinked before looking around. How on earth did that car get past me? Any questions I had about that car were immediately discarded as I saw who it was that came out of the car.

"DON'T WORRY, DAD! I GOT ALL MY EQUIPMENT ON ME!"

Quick, if you walk on ahead and don't make eye contact, maybe you can still pass Patrick and he won't-

"Oh hey, Lincoln."

DANG IT!

"Hey...Patrick." I greeted neutrally as Patrick came up to me with an excited grin, almost like a puppy that had found a new toy to play with. Dang it, it was when Patrick acted like this that I just couldn't bring myself to even try distancing myself from him. Not only that, from what I've seen, he hadn't tried to get closer to any of the other guys that were clearly wanting to get to know the 'future running back.' Sure, he was friendly back to them, but other than what was socially polite, there was nothing further.

Seriously, what did Patrick see in me?

"Come on, Lincoln! We're going to be late!" Patrick said as he went on ahead. Just as I was about to drag my feet after him, someone called out from the car.

"Hey, Lincoln, can I talk to you?"

Turning around, I saw someone leaning towards the passenger window. I guessed that the man that was looking at me was Patrick's father or at least some male relative. From what I could see from the window, his hair was cut short, and his build made him look like he played college football, maybe professional even.

"Uh...sure, Mr...?"

Patrick's… male relative realized how weird he was being. "Sorry, I'm Roland Pace, Patrick's father. And if you don't mind, you look kind of familiar. You wouldn't happen to know a Lynn Loud?"

"That's my dad!"

"Oh! Well, I'm one of his new coworkers. I just wanted to say thank you for helping Patrick get used to Royal Woods."

"...What do you mean by that?"

"Well, I know he doesn't like to show it, but he was a little glum about moving to a new town and having to leave his friends and all the things that he was familiar with. So imagine my surprise when he starts coming back from practice and asking me to take him to all these places that he suddenly knows about in this town. I got to say, I never thought that french and mexican fusion would be a good combination." The man smiled.

"And imagine my relief when Patrick says that he knows all of these things because of his new friend, Lincoln. So thanks, Lincoln, for helping Patrick get a little more used to this town."

"...You're welcome." Please don't ask what I think you're going to ask.

"Also, if you don't mind, do you go to Royal Woods Elementary?"

JUST SAY NO, ME! JUST SAY NO!

"When school starts, you want me to keep an eye out on Patrick?"

"Yeah, if it's not too much trouble."

YES IT IS! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO STICK TO THE PLAN IF YOU DROP THIS ON ME?! IT'S HARD ENOUGH JUST TO TRY TO IGNORE PATRICK ALREADY! SERIOUSLY, I DON'T WANT TO PLAY SPORTS! WHY DOES IT FEEL LIKE THE WORLD IS TRYING TO MAKE ME OUT AS THE BAD GUY?!

"I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks, Lincoln. Oh shoot, sorry about holding you back! Good luck at the game!" With that, Patrick's dad drove out of the parking lot. I stood there for a moment, trying to think of how to salvage all my plans now that all that new stuff just dropped into my lap.

Then my belly rumbled as an all too familiar pressure made itself known. I clutched it in a vain attempt to alleviate some of the pressure. Only then did I realize that the pressure hadn't made itself known.

"LINCOLN!" Patrick came running over. "COME ON! Coach wants us to warm-up before we go into our match!"

Wait...I need to go to the restroom…

* * *

"ALRIGHT, everyone gather up!" The Coach said, everyone immediately gathering into a group. I followed everyone's action, trying desperately to keep the churning of my gut to a minimum.

"Okay, it's the first game of the season. I know a lot of you are excited to get out there and show your stuff. Just remember, win or lose, this is still only the first game, and you'll have plenty games ahead of you, okay?"

Just then, the referee came over and started to talk to the Coach. I took the chance to look around the field. On the other side, another team was huddled into themselves, the stands behind them filled with people wearing their colors and waving their posters and banners. Behind us, our own fans were waving their own colors and banners. In front of them but giving us space, a person in a rooster costume was running around, doing flips and other things to make the crowd happy. The energy in the air was...something that I could touch: excitement and anticipation.

I then looked around at the team around me, the football players ready and willing to play ball, and the energy was mixed. I looked at Patrick, who was practically alight with excitement. I looked at Ross, who stared ahead with rock solid determination. Finally, I looked at Terrence, who was standing in the middle of our group, his eyes reflecting focus, determination, and a bit of desperation.

"Well, Coach said his piece, so let me say mine. Don't make any mistake, we're here to win. All I ask is that you do your best."

I resisted the urge to look down at my shoes.

"ALRIGHT!" Terrence shouted, making me look up. "FIRST GAME! LET'S GO! GROUP UP!"

Terrence's words triggered something in the rest of the team, making them group up in the middle. I simply followed suit, just putting forward the least required amount of effort.

"WE ARE THE ROOSTERS! ROOSTERS! WE ARE THE ROOSTERS! ROOSTERS! IT'S WHAT WE COCK-A-DOODLE-DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

At that last syllable, the the team raised their hands to the sky as the referee blew the whistle. At that, Terrence turned around and started walking over to the center at the same time that another player from the other team did as well. The Coach checked his board as the rest of the team waited with bated breath.

From what I could see, the referee showed the two a coin. When the other guy said something, the referee flipped the coin. As the coin landed in the middle of them, the three looked at the coin before the referee gestured to Terrence. Terrence said something, and pumped his fist as he ran back to the team.

"We're receiving the ball first." At that, the rest of the team started cheering. Patrick even thumped me on the arm.

As the Coach started to list the names of those who were going to play, I allowed myself to go over my plan. Obviously, after the display that both the Coach and Terrence showed, they were not going to accept me just straight up failing. In short, I had to do well enough to make a good showing, yet bad enough that they didn't want to put out on the field.

To that end, I went ahead and made one of the shoelaces on my shoes a little longer. That way, I could step on it at the right moment and make everyone think I shouldn't be relied on for the rest of the game. A few more incidents like this, just shake it up for the next few games, and then there would be no way that they would want me to play. Then Lynn can take over and hopefully stay under the radar, and I'll be free. FREE! All that's left is to wait for the precise time to-

"Lincoln!"

I blinked, looking at Patrick. "What?"

"Lincoln." I looked at the Coach. "Come on, I'm putting you out there. Let's"

Wait...NOW?!

"Come on, Snow White." Terrence said, patting me on the back as some of the team began to chuckle. "The game isn't going to wait for you."

Well, you heard what Terrence said. Time waits for no one. Sneaking one last look at my shoelace, I put on my helmet, making sure that it was secure on my head. Looking out onto the field, I frowned a bit as I saw my field of vision had been restricted. Sure, during practice, the coach would make us wear our helmets to get used to them, but the difference between then and now were like night and day.

As I jogged onto the field, I got a little close to one of the team members. He looked up at me, annoyed. "Come on, Snow White! I know you're slow, but hurry up and get into position!"

Great, just what I need, a nickname.

As I finally settled into a position that had no one near me, my heart couldn't help but race as I started to sweat a little bit. For this moment, I was going to play football, probably the toughest sport I knew that wasn't pretend wrestling with my sister Lynn. I briefly offered a prayer to anyone that might have been listening when the whistle blew.

The kicker of the other team must have kicked it really high, as everyone had time to make it to the place where the ball was going to land. I happened to be a bit farther away, so I jogged up to the place where everyone was dogpiling. I observed with morbid fascination at the wiggling pile of people trying desperately to get the ball that was under it all. The referee himself looked like he was trying to determine who had the ball.

Then the very ball popped out of the pile, right into my path. I blinked, staring at the ball before me. Did I seriously get placed in this situation?

Among the roar of the crowd- "LINCOLN, GET THE BALL!"

Like a trigger, I grabbed the ball and started to run. We were facing that way, right? I guess I'll go that way.

Suddenly, someone stood in front of me, their hands outstretched to make themselves look bigger.

DANGER

I leaned to the left, started to the right, before running to the left, leaving the guy behind me.

DANGER

I spun on the spot, letting a guy sail past me as he tried to grab the ball.

DANGER

I jumped over the last guy, before running straight ahead.

As I continued running, I looked behind me, best as I could. The rest of the other team were either on the floor or were too far away from me. I looked down at the ball that I was holding with a death grip.

Then I allowed myself to listen.

The fans were cheering. The announces were cheering. The team was cheering.

I was home free. No one could stop me. I could score.

I could score.

My feet briefly increased their speed. The goal filled my vision. The corners of my lips curled upwards.

Hey...

WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! DID YOU FORGET WHAT YOU HAVE TO DO HERE?!

What?

IF YOU SCORE HERE, THEN THE COACH WILL SEE THAT YOU'RE A PLAYER AND HE'LL ACTUALLY MAKE YOU PRACTICE! DO YOU WANT THAT?!

I-

DON'T YOU SEE! YOU'RE NOT GOOD AT SPORTS! THIS IS A FLUKE! DON'T GET SUCH A BIG HEAD!

Wait-

DON'T YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT IT! YOU ARE LINCOLN LOUD, THE DORKY COMIC NERD! NOT A SPORTS STAR!

Well, I-

NO YOU'RE NOT! YOU HATE IT HERE! YOU HATE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS! SO WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?! DO IT!

I-

DO IT!

We-

DO IT!

Wa-

DO IT!

My foot stopped, the shoelace stuck underneath the other shoe. My forward movement stopped, and so did me. Falling forward, I kept a tight grip on the ball…

Then I landed on the ground with the ball crashing into my gut. The pressure suddenly returned a whole lot, making me grit my teeth as I laid there for a moment. Hearing the sounds of footsteps, I slowly got up.

I noted that I managed to make it between the 40 and the 30 yard line.

The referee came up to me and held his hand out. I gave him the ball and jogged back to the rest of th team that were gathering on the sidelines. The pressure in my gut was too much, gotta get out now!

"Good work, Lin-"

"Yeah, yeah, sure, sure. Have to go. Something bad at breakfast."

With that excuse, I quickly left the sideline without looking back. Jogging out of the sports area, I looked around for a men's bathroom, a porta-potty, ANYTHING! As soon as I saw a door with a black figure on the door, I practically ran through the door. Seeing an empty stall, I ran inside, locked the door behind me and sat down.

It was at that moment that I realized something. Even if this...thing would let me be the most popular kid in school, buy all the rarest comic books for free, and win the lottery, it would still be too much for me to take.

This was going to hurt.

* * *

That did hurt.

I slowly walked out of the bathroom, not feeling relieved. At this point, I might have to make several more trips to fully clear my system. I shuddered at that thought. If they were as rough as that session, then I fully regret decision that had led up to that moment.

Now that I thought about it, how long had I been in there?

Walking back to the field, I blinked as I re-entered. Compared to the energy before, desperation was clearly in the air. Looking around, I saw that the team and the coach were on edge. I quietly made my way to the front.

From what I saw, our team had the ball, and were trying to get to the other team's goal to win. The members in front of Terrence crouched down, while the others around our Quarterback, including Patrick, were in different positions around him. Suddenly, the guy in front of Terrence snapped the ball to him, before all the people in front of Terrence charged forward to stop the other team from getting to Terrence. Terrence held out the ball to Patrick as he ran towards him.

Then there was chaos.

Either Patrick was too fast or Terrence was too slow. Either way, Terrence pulled the ball away just as Patrick grabbed for it. The ball was ripped out of Terrence's hand, and Terrence made a brief sound of frustration. One of the people blocking turned their heads to the sound, a brief moment before the person he was blocking pushed past him, his eyes deadset on the ball. Patrick then pivoted around and dove for the ball, tucking it into his arms.

Immediately, Patrick got up and threw the ball to Terrence, who threw it down. The referee blew the whistle. The two teams immediately huddled together.

I looked around, before looking at the scoreboard. It was 4th quarter...Wait, wasn't there only 4 quarters in a game? WAS I GONE THAT LONG?!

The Coach called out to the team on the field. "TEN SECONDS REMAINING!"

I looked back at our team. The hint of desperation was now so thick, I could cut it with a knife. I turned back.

Everyone got back into position, the desperation at all time high. Patrick and the other people around Terrence was spread out, already looking like they were going to run past the line and into the open field.

Yet looking at the other team, they seemed...calm.

A shout. The snap. The group in front of Terrence blocked the other team. Patrick and the others ran out in the open field, some of the other team chasing after them. Terrence gave a quick look, before practically lobbing the ball towards one of his teammates.

The other guy looked up, holding out his hands to catch it. The other team's player kept chase. The crowd roared, the team cheered. It looked like our team's guy was going to catch it.

Then…

One of the other team's players turned away from his mark and ran straight at our guy. All good cheer was lost. Nothing needed to be said.

It was a trap.

Just as our guy caught it, he saw the other person coming for him. He turned to the out of bounds, tried to take a first step. The other guy was on him immediately, taking him to the ground.

Almost immediately, everyone was panicking.

"TIME OUT!"

"THERE'S NO TIME OUTS!"

"GET OVER THERE AND GET INTO POSITION!"

Why was everyone panicking? Didn't the time stop between downs? Unless in the last minutes of the game, time keeps going… You can only stop it if you threw the ball down when you get it or get out of bounds. And if I saw that formation correctly, you can't play unless everyone is in position.

Everyone was running, trying to get into position. Everyone was passing Ross, who was huffing, his face red as he forced himself to go faster. It was no use, he was already way behind everyone else.

I saw it on his face. The desperation, the defeat…

He was going to be the reason.

The referee blew the whistle, and that was it. The other team and their fans started cheering, and everyone on our side practically radiated disappointment. Standing in the midst of all this, I looked up at the scoreboard.

I mean, everyone did their best, right? Wasn't that something to be proud of? I desperately tried to ignore the feeling of guilt rolling in my gut.

I saw the numbers. I couldn't ignore it anymore.

16 - 21.

" _Remember, bro. Touchdowns are worth six points in football. You only get seven if you make the kick."_


	6. Down 5 - Trying

_**So people liked the last chapter, and even left a few questions. Let's see what we got, alright?**_

 _ **That Engineer - Thank you for that idea, but I think I'll stick with my version. Reading your version, I didn't feel like the impact at the end would be the same if Lincoln did score. Not to mention that his plan was to be serviceable but utterly deserving to be forgotten. Not that the plan worked mind you.**_

 _ **As for why didn't Rita sign Lincoln up for the track team or something like that? I can't help but feel like Rita decided to compromise on this one. She wants Lincoln to exercise, but he is not responsive to any of the activities they've been doing so far. Therefore, why not send him to a sport? Track seems too much like he would exercising for the sake of exercising. Football, on the other side, is still a game, and something that Lincoln might find exciting.**_

 _ **He might even make some new friends. No offense to his own friends.**_

 _ **In short, I'm sure that Rita's thought process is the same of all suburban moms who think their little tyke could use some more sunlight.**_

 _ **DarthWill3 - What, was 'clogging the toilet' his plan? I'm not sure what you mean by that, but I'll go ahead and say no, he just really needed to go.**_

 _ **As for Ronnie… Sorry to the girl, but I think I'm already trying to juggle too many relationships that I'm struggling to give them all relevant scenes. Maybe next time.**_

 _ **YellowPikmin88 - I feel like even if Lincoln hadn't been crippled by Lynn's 'good luck charm', he still would have tried everything in his power to sabotage his own performance. He was that desperate.**_

 _ **Also, I did include a line on Lincoln commentating about Lynn's superstitions. "I swear that Lynn's good luck things are going to be the death of me some day", or something to that effect. A little cheeky nod to NSL.**_

 _ **Alright, I think answering these things answers everyone else.**_

 _ **ON WITH THE CHAPTER!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own the Loud House.**_

* * *

"Good game."

Bad game.

"Good game."

Bad game.

"Good game."

"Good game."

Part of me realized that another player on the opposite team had actually said his piece a little more audibly.

Apparently, after every game, in order to foster good sportsmanship and stuff like that, we had to line up and pass the other team, giving them high fives and congratulations for a good game.

I struggled to keep my head up and straight.

Looking around, I saw mixed reactions. Some, like Patrick, were a bit more genuine, actually trying to shake everyone's hand and had a bit more feeling in their congratulations. Some, like Terrence, were nice enough, yet you could see that they were busy thinking over the game that we just had and wondering if there was anything else that they could have done. And others, like Ross, weren't even paying attention, the words just falling from their mouths as they were stuck on the fact that they lost…

The fact that we lost…

I want to go home.

Over there, our Coach was talking with the other coach, shaking hands and probably praising the other guy on how well his team did against us, masking his disappointment at how close we had come. Over at the stands, the people that came to cheer the team were leaving, looking utterly disappointed, and I couldn't blame them. This was supposed to be the debut game, an indicator of what was going to come, and this is what they got. I bet it would have been easier to accept that the Roosters were just going to lose every time, instead of getting so invested in a game just for the Roosters to come short.

...Come on, hurry up with the ceremony and all that, I don't want to be here anymore.

Finally, the last member of the team finished, and our Coach made us all group us together and kneel down on the other side of the field. Looking behind us, the other team were quickly packing their things. Probably had a bus waiting for them to take them back home. Now that I thought about it, where were they from?

Oh, I think our Coach is talking now.

"Well… that was a good game, everyone. Sure, we lost, but let's hold our heads up high and know that we gave everything we got and just simply came a little short. Let's continue working hard and prepare for next game, alright?"

The Coach got a few half-hearted nods and grunts.

"Alright, come together now."

The Roosters scooted closer to each other, not as enthusiastic as they were at the beginning of the day.

"1-2-3! 1-2-3!" Terrence called out.

"Roosters!"

With that, the team was dismissed, majority of them returning back to the locker room. I was about to leave when I realized some were staying behind. One of them I recognized.

"Hey, Patrick." I greeted as I walked up closer to him.

'What are you doing? Stick to the plan!'

'Forget the plan.' I said to myself as I looked back up at Patrick. He was staring out at the field with such focus, part of me wondered if he was trying to will the field itself to burst into flames.

"Patrick?"

"Huh?" Patrick looked back at me, before realizing that I asked him a question. "Sorry, man. I was just thinking about stuff."

I stood beside him. "Pretty deep thinking, from what I saw."

He nodded. "Yeah, didn't expect my first real game of football to be like this."

I looked back at him, utterly confused. "Wait, this is your first real football game? How does that work?"

"Well, I mean with all this." Patrick gestured to the equipment. "The helmet, the football pads, that kind of thing. Most of the time, I just played flag or touch football at recess and gym."

...Just nod like you understand what those even mean, Lincoln.

"Even then, my dad wasn't sure about me joining the team here. My grades aren't the best, but I managed to scrape things together, and I'm here, and I was hoping to show my stuff…"

Patrick's expression became glum. "Guess I got a lot to learn."

...Come on, Lincoln. Think of something.

"Yeah, you do."

Patrick looked at me.

Dang it, should have thought about that more. Okay, okay, what else to say?

"I mean, this is supposed to be a team game, right? You're not alone here. I saw what happened between you and Terrence during one of the last plays. You guys only worked with each other for three weeks, I don't think there still will be times that everyone will get some things wrong. I mean, just look at me and my sisters. Even though we probably know each other a lot better than others, we still argue and fight sometimes."

"...Wait, you have sisters?"

I nodded. "Ten of them."

Patrick blinked, utterly gobsmacked at my answer. "Ten?!"

I exhaled and grimaced. "Yep. Trying to get a moment of peace in that house is practically impossible. But either way, my point is that it's okay. Frankly, you guys did alright for a team that has half new guys and half veterans that know each other. I'm sure that by next game, you guys…"

I fell silent for a moment.

"You guys are definitely going to win the next game."

Patrick looked at me funny. "What do you mean by that?"

It was my turn to look confused. "What? You guys are definitely going to win the next game, what's wrong with that?"

"We."

"What?"

"We!" Patrick grinned. "You're part of the team too, Lincoln. Heck, you got us pretty far on that return!"

Then he grimaced as he rubbed the back of his head. "Sorry that we couldn't capitalize on it. We even ended up missing the kick…"

I...tried to smile. "Well… It's fine. Glad to have helped in some way."

"Alright, got to go! My dad's gonna pick me." With that, Patrick began to jog away, before turning back to look at me. "ALRIGHT, SEE YOU AT PRACTICE, LINCOLN!"

With that, Patrick dashed until he was out of sight.

As I started to walk back to the changing room, I couldn't help but think back on Patrick's words. Got to go… Come to think of it, I think Dad was telling me something while I was at home, but I dashed off to find a restroom before I heard the whole thing.

Ehh… Maybe I remember after I change back to my regular clothes.

As I entered into the locker room, I saw that the atmosphere from earlier was still present, with everyone downcast and looking to change into their regular clothes and get out as soon as possible. Walking through the crowd, I soon spotted an empty spot. Then I saw the person changing next to it. I quickly looked around for another available spot. Seeing none, I sighed as I cautiously approached.

Thankfully, Ross didn't stop me, and we had about five moments of peace.

"Hey, big man! Nice hustle out there!"

I stayed staring down at my bag as I saw three other of the team come up to Ross, sneers on their faces.

"What do you want?" Ross asked, clearly annoyed.

"What? Just wanted to congratulate you on your performance out there. Never seen a beached whale move so fast before!"

"Oh my gee, just leave me alone. I'm not in the mood for this."

"I don't know, man. Maybe we shouldn't leave you alone. You're probably in the mood for some Greg and Benny's, huh?"

I heard a hand smack skin.

"WHAT THE HECK, MAN?! WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!"

"What do you think?! You lost us the game, tons of fun!"

...

"You know what? I don't need to deal with this."

"Yeah, run away. How about eating a salad while you're at it?!"

Just look down. Don't get involved.

"I DID THE BEST I COULD!"

"HOW ABOUT YOU PUT THE SAME EFFORT INTO TRAINING AS YOU DO IN AN EATING CONTEST?!"

Dang it.

"HEY!" I came up in front of Ross, standing in front of the three. "THAT'S ENOUGH! WE LOST THE GAME PERIOD. GET OVER IT AND GET READY FOR THE NEXT GAME!"

The three looked at each other before laughing their heads off. At that point, I was aware that the whole locker room was staring at us.

"Oh, look at this. Snow White trying to protect her dear beast."

...Pretty sure that's not the fairy tale.

"Get out of here. The real football players are talking." The lead person said as he pushed me aside. I gritted my teeth as I felt my back collide with the metal of the locker. Just as I was about to get up and do something…

"Yeah, well, the football captain is here and I'm telling everyone to SHUT UP!"

Terrence appeared in the midst of the group of people that I just realized had been crowding around us. Almost immediately, the rumble of noise that was starting to pick up immediately died down. Terrence came to the middle, then looked at Ross, then at the three people, who looked immediately cowed.

"Loud's got a point. We lost this game, and no amount of blame game is going to change that fact. As far as I'm concerned, we will cry over it, we will grumble over, we will learn from it, and that's it. This game might as well have happened a year ago. IS THAT CLEAR?!"

"YES CAPTAIN!" I found myself shouting. Almost immediately, Terrence gave a quick look at me before staring at the three dead evenly.

"And that goes double for you guys. If I hear that you tried to pull this crud again, other than one or two plays that Coach puts you in just because he has to, expect your new official positions to be Benchwarmer. GOT IT?"

"YES CAPTAIN!" The three shouted before scurrying away. Terrence gave me another look before walking away. I looked over at Ross.

"You alright, man?"

Ross nodded. "Thanks."

Brief and without any real feeling behind it.

"No problem." I said, before fully changing into my regular clothes and getting my stuff. As I left the building, someone cleared the throat loudly.

"Well, kinda glad you managed to get that message, Loud." Terrence said as he leaned against the wall. Getting off it, he walked past me.

"Come on." He said, nodding his head towards the bleachers. "We'll talk up there."

The walk towards and up the bleachers was quiet, nothing said between us. Finally, the two of us stood at the top of the bleachers. I looked out towards the view, mentally comparing what I saw here and at the field level.

"Alright. Let's not waste time." Terrence frowned at me. "I saw what you did there."

"Oh?" Let him go first.

"Both on the field and there in the locker room."

"Oh." Oh no.

"Part of me wishes that you kept quiet during that whole thing, just so I drag out everything. But instead, I got you actually going out of your way to defend Ross, so I'm guessing on some level, you at least understand just what you did."

"..."

Terrence glared at me.

"Not going to say anything for yourself? Okay, listen closely. You get one. After this, if you try pulling something like that again, I won't have a problem exposing you. You signed up for this…"

Terrence got up.

"You might as well put some effort in it."

With that, Terrence left, leaving me at the top. I sat down, bowing my head. I don't know how long I stayed there.

Signed up? I didn't even sign up for this sport. I didn't want - don't want to be here. Why was it so hard to get through everyone's head? I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE!

I DON'T I DON'T I DON'T I DON'T I DON'T

"Lincoln?"

I looked up at the Coach, who was looking at me worriedly.

"Are you alright?"

I took a moment to wipe my eyes. Then I paused before looking at my fingers. They were wet.

I rubbed my eyes some more.

Not really. "Yeah, I'm fine."

The Coach looked unconvinced and wanting to say something.

"You sure? Don't mind Terrence. Knowing that kid, the first loss of the season always gets to him."

"Y-You don't say."

"Anyways, for what it's worth, good work out there."

...What do you mean by that?

"I mean, for a rookie, you sure got some moves out there. And even though we didn't capitalize on it, we still got you to thank for even getting that far."

"Are you serious?"

The Coach chuckled. "Still, I bet with some more training, you could have made it all the way."

"You can't be serious."

He looked at me funny. "Lincoln, where have you been for the past three weeks? I remember, first day of conditioning, I worried that I would have to call the hospital to report one of my players in for heat stroke. Now look at you, getting the ball that far!"

"That was a fluke."

The Coach grinned. "Only if you let it be, Lincoln."

With that, he got up.

"Alright, I gotta go now."

Wait, is that seriously it?

"Get home safe, okay?"

You had to notice. Terrence noticed, you didn't. That's impossible. You have to be messing with me.

"See you next practice."

"STOP MESSING WITH ME!" The words spilled out of my mind and out my mouth. Some part of me was horrified, but the rest of me felt too many things.

"What?" The Coach turned to look at me.

"JUST STOP, OKAY! I KNOW! I'VE BEEN FEELING BAD ENOUGH ALREADY!"

The Coach frowned. "Lincoln, it's alright. You did great for your first play-"

"DON'T YOU GET IT?! I MESSED UP! I TRIPPED ON PURPOSE! I RUINED EVERYONE'S HARD WORK! I… I JUST…"

Guilt and shame swirled around in my gut. I stared down at my shoes, unwilling to make eye contact.

I DON'T WANT TO PLAY FOOTBALL.

The feeling of leather against your arms.

I DON'T WANT TO PLAY FOOTBALL.

The wind blowing through the face guard and onto your face.

I DON'T WANT TO PLAY FOOTBALL.

The roar of the crowd.

I don't…

The smile you had on your face.

"Lincoln? Lincoln!"

I blinked, feeling tears slide down my face and dripping onto my shoelaces. I looked up and sniffled. The Coach held out a tissue. I took it and started wiping everything that was dirty. I tried to think of something to say.

"Lincoln, breathe."

"Coach."

"Breath, Lincoln."

I began to take a breath, before the Coach held up a hand.

"Follow me." The Coach breathed in through his nose, before exhaling out his mouth. "You try."

Breath in through the nose. Exhale through the mouth.

Breath in through the nose. Breath out through the mouth.

Breath in. Breath out.

Slowly, like air coming out of a balloon, all the conflicting feelings inside me started to settle down.

"Feel better?"

"Yeah… Yeah, I do."

The Coach sat down again. "So tell me everything. I sense there's a story behind this."

* * *

"And now we're here." I finished.

Coach Johnson blew some air through his mouth. "Well. Should have seen that one coming?"

I raised an eyebrow.

"No offense, Lincoln. But when you're in the coaching business as long as me, you see a lot of stuff. And believe me, your case isn't exactly special. I cannot tell how many times me or one of the other coaches have had to deal with a mother's angry tirade because their darling little boy got themselves hurt playing football."

"Yeah, my mom was pretty insistent on making me exercise."

"Well, nothing we can do about that now."

"Huh?"

"Well, if you're thinking that I can just cut you from the team, I'll still need to notify your mother about it, and you're going to need a better reason why you should be let go of the team besides 'I don't want to be here' if you can't get your mother to agree with you."

"Oh…"

"Wait, was that even what you even wanted to ask?"

"...I don't know."

"Lincoln, do you mind if I give you some advice?"

"Go ahead."

"Lincoln, there are times in our lives where we find ourselves outside our comfort zones, doing stuff that is just so far from what we usually do, it can be frightening. But I believe we have a choice when that happens. We can either flounder around, complaining about how it just isn't what we do… or we can take it as an opportunity."

"An opportunity for what?"

Coach Johnson looked at me straight. "That depends on you, Lincoln. Either way, you can sit there, mourning over all the time that you could have spent on something else and generally wasting your time, or you make something out of the time that you spent here. It's your choice, Lincoln."

As the Coach stood up, he smiled down at me. "Still, call me biased, but I am your coach, so do come to practice, ready to work, alright?"

I frowned. "Just want to let you know, I'm not exactly the most athletic of my family."

He chuckled. "It's alright. I'm not expecting Randy Moss. I'm expecting Lincoln Loud, doing the best he can."

With that, the Coach left the bleachers, leaving me alone.

Expecting… Expecting… I know that everyone at home was expecting me back for something, but what…

Wait...when was Luna having that concert of hers?

"OH SHOOT!"

Grabbing my stuff, I ran down the bleachers and out of the field, my feet barely feeling the difference between pavement and grass. Everything practically passed by me in a blur, the only thing on my mind was getting home before we had to go. Just as I was about to stop, the familiar shape of my house came into view. I put in one last burst, coming to a stop in front of the door. Only then did I allow myself to lean forward, propping myself on my thighs as I regained my breath.

Then it hit me.

I just ran all the way from the field to my house. It took about 15 minutes to walk from here to there. And I just ran that distance.

Woah.

Suddenly, the door opened. "THERE YOU ARE!"

I looked up just in time to see my mom reach out and pull me inside. Once we were in the house, mom looked me over and grimaced. I could imagine what I looked like at that moment. Looking around, I saw everyone in a frenzy trying to get ready, Luna being the most.

"Lincoln, quickly go up and make yourself presentable, okay? We're gonna have to leave in 10 minutes if we don't want to be late."

I nodded and quickly made for the stairs. Just as I was halfway there…

"Oh by the way, today was your first game, right? How was it, Lincoln?"

All activity stopped. I looked back to see everyone having stopped and looked at me. I noticed Lynn staring at me intently.

Can't let her know about the fact that I went during the game, or she'll think that I brought the team bad luck! I mean, I could have gotten the teams points and I didn't. BUT I'M NOT DOING THAT THING AGAIN!

"Umm… It went pretty good."

"You won?" Mom asked.

"Yeah… We totally did. It was close, but we managed to do it." Please don't look it up. More importantly, don't let Lynn look it up.

"Okay, I gotta go get ready!" With that, I finally got into my room.

* * *

I stared out the window as we drove back to our house. As usual, Luna and her band tore the house down, and the crowd loved her for it. Part of me was still aware of my sisters talking all around me. I began to pay attention.

"GREAT, MY EARS ARE STILL RINGING!" Lola shouted.

"Geez, dude, you don't need to shout." Luna commented. "Besides, that's a mark of a good concert right there."

"That or possible hearing damage." Lisa interrupted. "You know, if the problem still persists, you should come see me, Lola."

"WHAT?! No thank you. I'll just wait for this to blow over. I do not need you to make me a super ear or something like that."

I couldn't help but smile hearing Lisa curse under her breath.

"Besides, as if something as small as this could do anything to me when I go up against Sweetwater on Wednesday. I practiced so hard to crush her."

"Oh shoot, honey! I forgot that Lola had that pageant on Wednesday!"

Just then, Lynn snorted.

"Practice? All you do is just walk back and forth with books balanced on your head. Try coming to one of my practices, and you'll how much work you have to do in my world."

Lola scoffed. "No thank you, you can stay in your gross sweaty world. My world requires class and sophistication, unlike you."

I tuned out of that conversation, as it looked like everyone else was starting to get into it. Still, something out of that stayed with me.

'Hard work, huh?'

We arrived at our house, and everyone immediately went their separate ways, going into different parts. I felt thirsty and began to make my way to the kitchen. Out of the corner of my eye, a glint blinded me. I looked over.

There, our trophy cabinet stood. Filled to the brim with all the awards that my sisters had won over the years, it spoke a lot about how much they had all achieved. And then there was me.

I opened the door, and took out the lone trophy that I was given. It was a small trophy with a sticker with the words 'Most Improved Brother' stuck on the base. I remember being so happy and proud to display it front and center in my own corner of the trophy cabinet.

Holding it now, I felt nothing.

I looked up. I realized that all the trophies and awards that my sisters had won over the years didn't just fall into their laps. Standing there, I looked at each trophy, imagining each of my sisters putting in time and effort, day in and day out, until the moment they were able to lift that award high in the air, all their efforts having paid off.

Me on the other hand, I wanted a trophy but I didn't want to actually work for it.

Me at the Marathon? Played video games all the time.

Me at the Karate Tournament? Read all the manga I could get my hands on.

Me at the Kid Pageant? Did both at the same time.

Now that I thought about it, I didn't even deserve this trophy. I had basically embarrassed my sisters in public, and was just trying to make things right. And that deserves an award, just because I was trying to be a decent person?

I sighed as I put the trophy back in the cabinet. Going back to the kitchen, I got a glass from the cabinet and turned on the faucet. Filling the glass with water, I drank it all before putting it inside the sink. Just as I was about to go back up the stairs, I happened to stare out the window out into the backyard.

I stopped, before immediately turning around and going outside. Walking close to the object, I bent over and grabbed it. I looked over it, before going back and opening the door.

"MOM!"

"Yeah, Lincoln?"

"I'm going for a walk!"

"Okay, stay safe."

Closing the door, I left the backyard and walked away. I had only one destination in mind, and soon, I saw it in the distance. Keeping the same pace, I eventually entered onto the football field. Setting down the football, I looked around, feeling a little awkward to be standing in the middle of an empty field.

Either way, I set the ball down, before setting my hand on it. I tried my best to copy the position that I saw the guy in front of Terrence was in. I looked up, seeing the goal post in the distance.

I imagined that I was wearing my helmet.

"...23, 10, 14, 51, HIKE!"

As I grabbed the ball and brought it close to my chest, I imagined a line of people blocking the other team from getting to me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a figure coming towards me. I backed up, letting the shadow pass by me. Seeing my opportunity, I made a run for it.

Passing by the line, I ran like the wind, the breeze brushing through hair. My heart started to beat, both from effort and a feeling in his chest. Shadows began to appear on the stands, a sound beginning to make itself known in my ears.

" _LINCOLN! LINCOLN!"_

Faster.

" _LINCOLN! LINCOLN!"_

Faster!

" _COME ON, LINCOLN!"_

FASTER!

I crossed the end zone and stopped.

Tried to.

Immediately, I slid across the turf, my free arm windmilling as I fought to keep my balance. Then gravity grabbed my back and sent me onto my back. I blinked, seeing the sky above me.

I laid there for a few moments, just watching the sky and clouds pass me by. Slowly getting up, I looked back across the field, mentally tracking where I was. As I did, the shadows left me, leaving me alone.

I stared out again onto the empty field.

 _The disappointment on everyone's faces._

" _You're part of the team too, Lincoln."_

" _You signed up for this, might as well put some effort into this."_

" _You can sit there, mourning over all the time that you could have spent on something else and generally wasting your time, or you make something out of the time that you spent here."_

 _The feeling of excitement that was coursing through my veins as I ran with the ball._

"Alright, let's see what happens if I actually try."


	7. Down 6 - School

*Claps hands together* Question Response Time!

1049: Sorry, no Texas team. This isn't Collegiate Football, after all.

PhantomKnightPercival: Yeah, following canon in that regard. Now only would that allow Lincoln to hide his loss better (and give him some leeway in Lynn's insane good luck rituals), I have the headcanon that it really is just exercise for the rest of the family and they weren't really expecting Lincoln to be the next Randy Moss.

Seemingly insensitive? Yes. But we're used to that in this show, aren't we?

ThatEngineer: I know that, I was just thinking in terms of what a mother would think her son would find as interesting. As far as she knows, her son wouldn't like to just race against others, he needs some more action besides that.

What was that sport, by the way?

And don't worry, I'm saving the moment when Lynn confronts Lincoln about not following her good luck rituals.

FrancisVamp0822: Thanks, that's a scene I'm especially happy about.

Also Wolvenstrom, DreadedCandiru2, Gamelover41592, 364wii, agui972, DJ Timmer, 1 and DarthWill3, thank you for reviewing. Your engagement with the story makes me happy.

With that said… BACK TO SCHOOL!

Disclaimer: I don't own the Loud House.

* * *

...Wow, I was really out of it during those three weeks before the first game.

I mean, seriously, how did I miss this? It was practically staring down at me from the time I first heard from my mom that she signed me up for football. Heck, now that I thought about it, I'm pretty sure that I would have asked for it to come sooner just so I can say to mom that I have been getting fit.

Still, no escaping it, and I'm glad that my mom have gotten me prepared.

"Alright, we'll pick you up all later. Lincoln, don't forget that you have football practice after school."

"I won't!" I called out.

Lori nodded and started to pull out of the parking lot, bringing the rest of my sisters with her. As she did so, Lynn popped her head out of the window and shouted out to me.

"DON'T BREAK A LEG, LINCOLN!"

I grimaced. Gee, thanks for the reminder.

Shifting my backpack into a more comfy position, I took a deep breath.

Breath in. Breath out.

Today was the start of a new school year. Today was also going to be the start where I would actually try my best and beyond at football. For the first time, I actually would have chosen to go to school.

Joining the rest of the students, I entered into the halls of Royal Woods Elementary, and took in the sights of other kids rushing to their lockers and their classes. Diving in, I navigated the sea of life, keeping in my mind the location of my locker as I overheard everyone talking to someone else about how their summer went, what places they saw, what food they tried, etc. Finally, I stopped in front of my locker. Turning the knob and putting in the combination that I could now recite in my sleep, the locker door opened. As I was putting away my stuff…

"Lincoln!"

I turned around and smiled. "Clyde! How's it going?!"

"Pretty good, friend." Clyde greeted, the two of us exchanging quick high fives. "You ready for fifth grade, the last grade before we're officially middle schoolers?"

I blinked.

"Wow, you're right." I frowned as I allowed myself to digest the information more thoroughly. "We're getting old, Clyde."

"One more year before we'll be a bunch of old guys sitting on our rocking chairs and reminiscing about how stuff in our day was so much better." Clyde nodded.

I imagined just the two of us, old like Pop-Pop, rocking back and forth on the porch of my house.

"Ehh, you dang kids get off my lawn!" I said, making my voice sound as old as possible as I slightly slouched. Clyde looked at me weirdly before smiling and copying my posture and voice.

"Hey, Lincoln. You remember the days that we could eat ice cream without our doctors getting our backs?"

"I 'member that! Then again, they keep coming up with more new flavors every day! I mean, just the other day, I was going around the store, and then I find a quart of Maple Flavored Bacon Ice Cream. BACON!"

Clyde stood back up, looking both confused and disgusted. "Wait. Is that seriously a thing?"

I stood back up and nodded. "Yep."

Clyde stuck out his tongue and faked gagging. "Gross. Who would even enjoy bacon in ice cream?"

I shrugged. "I don't know."

Just then, the warning bell rang, shaking up us both up.

"Shoot, still gotta get my stuff!" Clyde said as he hurriedly opened his locker and got what he needed. I nodded back as I put away my own stuff and got out what I needed.

"Wait, you're still doing football?" I looked over at Clyde before looking back at the duffel bag containing my football equipment. I looked back at him, deciding what my answer would be.

"Yeah...I guess."

Clyde looked at me closely, before stepping a bit more closely. I stood still, unsure of what he was doing. Then Clyde blinked before he spoke.

"Dude, is it me, or do you look like you have some muscle on you, and I don't mean the ones that you already have, I mean the ones that you can flex?"

...Really, I have those? Looking at my arm, I rolled up my sleeve and flexed my arm.

...I stared at the small rise in my bicep. Clyde reached and touched it, feeling around it to see if it was something else. Then he lightly squeezed it, before looking to me with wide eyes, making my own expression.

"Dude…" He said in disbelief. "You have muscle, like real flexing muscle."

I quickly rolled up my other sleeve and flexed my other bicep. Just like the other, the muscle rose up. I began to do all the poses that I saw all the fitness models do on Lori's magazines. I looked back up at Clyde.

"I could get abs." I said, absolute wonder in my eyes. Clyde grimaced and shook his head.

"Probably shouldn't dude. That's kinda gross."

...Says you, Clyde. I'm going to be hurting for a long while, so I might as well try to get abs. First thing that I was going to do with them was try to grate cheese on them.

"Lincoln!"

Huh, someone was calling my name… Wait, Clyde is near me and that sounded like it was far away… And it sounded like it was getting closer!

"HEY, LINCOLN!"

I managed to turn my head and confirmed. Quickly, I grabbed Clyde and pulled him against the lockers, scant seconds before Patrick managed to stop himself, managing to slide into the space where we used to be. I looked how fast he was sliding and exhaled in relief. That would have been nasty.

"Geez Patrick, don't run in the halls, you could hurt someone running into them." I said as I peeled myself off the lockers. Patrick at least had the decency to look sheepish.

"Sorry, Lincoln. I didn't know this place, and when I saw you, I knew I had to get to you. You always know where to go!" Patrick smiled.

"You're lost? You got your teacher, right?" I asked.

Patrick shrugged. "I did. I just don't know where anything is or how your numbering works. I mean, I was following room 205, 207, and when I crossed the hallway, it's 278! Not to mention, everyone here is talking so loudly, I didn't really hear the office lady's directions."

"Alright, can I see who it is?" I said, holding my hand out for Patrick's papers. As he gave them, I looked over them.

"Oh, you got Mrs. Johnson! I got Mrs. Johnson, too!"

Patrick grinned. "AWESOME!"

He took the opportunity to sling his arm over my shoulders. "After all, us teammates gotta stick together, right?"

I smiled. "Sure, dude."

"Umm… Excuse me?" Clyde came, looking between me and Patrick. "Lincoln, who's this?"

I looked between Clyde and Patrick and frowned. When I was talking with Clyde during the past weeks before the game, I had never mentioned Patrick to him. It must have been weird seeing some random kid run up to me and act close.

"Right, sorry. Clyde, this is Patrick. Patrick, Clyde, my friend."

"How do you do, man?" Patrick smiled, holding out his hand.

"Yeah, nice to meet you too…" Clyde greeted, his own smile slightly smaller as he shook Patrick's hand. "Lincoln, where did you meet Patrick?"

"Oh, we're teammates on the football team."

"Oh…"

Patrick nodded, before frowning. "I'm guessing you don't follow football?"

Clyde shook his head. "Nah, not really. Besides, my parents wouldn't want me to join in that anyway."

I thought before nodding. Oh yeah, Clyde's parents would never let him go out on the field. Even if he had to, he probably wouldn't even be able to move because of all the extra safety stuff his parents would make him wear and would have strong-armed Coach into letting them do it.

I briefly turned away, snickering at the image that created.

Patrick nodded, accepting the answer. "Okay, just found it kinda weird that you weren't there. I mean, even if Lincoln was there for one play, I thought you would have went to support him."

Patrick's eyebrow furrowed as he turned to me. "Actually, were any of your family there at the game, Lincoln? I don't think you waved to anyone."

I shook my head. "Nah, no one attended the game. Besides, where was your dad?"

"Oh, he had work during my game. I think he said that his boss called him in for some extra time in. But he definitely promised that he was going to make it to the next game!"

"Uh... guys?"

"What?" Me and Patrick turned to look at Clyde.

"I think we better get moving. I think class starts soon."

Me and Patrick looked around, realizing that there was a lot less people in the hallways, and that the nearby clock was showing a time that definitely promised we were going to be late if we didn't get a move on.

"OH NO!" I got what else I needed out of my locker and closed the door. "COME ON! WE'RE GOING TO BE LATE!"

I managed to recognize the signs before hand, and grabbed Patrick's shirt before he took off. "You stay with us, Patrick. Running's not allowed in the halls and you still don't know where Mrs. Johnson's class is."

...Huh, I wonder if Coach Johnson and Mrs. Johnson are related?

Clyde looked at me quizzically. "What, does he really need to stay with us? He's not that fast to get away from us, right?"

I looked back at him.

* * *

The same expression that I showed Clyde, I was wearing as I watched Clyde, Liam, Rusty and Zach watch Patrick get tested on his speed by the gym teacher. Actually, every one of my classmates was wearing the same expression, utterly gobsmacked by how fast he was moving. Only Mr. Pacowski was shaking his head as Patrick stopped in front of him.

"Careful, you'll start collecting flies if you keep your mouths open longer like that." I dryly commented. I could practically hear the snap as the others closed their mouths.

"The new kid's faster than greased lightning!" Liam said in shock.

Rusty shook his head in shock. "I think even Wheelie on his bike wouldn't be able to catch up with Patrick."

Clyde leaned closer to me. "Guess you were right about not letting Patrick get away from us. We would have lost him."

"Told you so."

Zach scratched his head. "How fast do you think he's actually going?"

I rubbed my chin as I remembered the times that Patrick set during his 40 meter dash.

"If I remember correctly, Patrick managed to run about 40 meters in about 5.2 seconds."

Everyone but Zach looked at me weirdly. "Is that right?" "What does that mean?" "That's… fast, right?"

Zach looked like he was deep in thought. "That's at least 8 meters per second!"

Rusty looked at Zach. "What's that in feet?"

At that moment, I swore I heard calculator noises coming from Zach's head.

"That's about 26.2467 feet." Zach said with utter surety.

"That's at least all of us stacked head to toe!"

As everyone began whispering in awe of Patrick's speed, I couldn't but look at Patrick again. More specifically, at the way that he could run. It was clearly different from the way I ran, but it clearly helped.

While I was sure that his speed was something he worked on over the years, his form might help me get faster.

"Alright, everyone!" Mr. Pacowski shouted. "Everyone do laps until the end of class!"

With that, Mr. Pacowski entered his office as everyone groaned yet begun to run anyway.

"Well, this stinks." Clyde commented as everyone collected into a group.

"Yeah, you think we would get an easy day today." Liam complained.

"By the way, Lincoln. How did you know that time?" Zach asked as he run closer to me. "If I'm not mistaken, that's a training method used in football."

I felt everyone's eyes on me. I simply nodded. "Yeah, my mom signed me for the Royal Wood Roosters football team."

Almost immediately, I heard my friends gasp.

"FOOTBALL?!" "No offense, you're going to get crushed." "Yeah, you're not exactly football material, dude."

I had to hide the grimace on my face. Gee, thanks guys. No need to make me second guess myself.

"Alright, see you guys later. I need to talk to Patrick about something." With that, I started to increase my speed, speeding out of the group.

I heard some words come out of Clyde's mouth, but I didn't really hear them, fully focused on catching up to Patrick. Thankfully, he was talking to some other classmates, clearly just as focused in keeping pace with the rest of the group.

"Patrick!"

Patrick noticed me, said a few things to the group, before coming over. My lungs subconsciously thanked Patrick as I slowed my pace.

"What's up, man?" Patrick asked.

I took a deep breath to in order to recover my nerves. I disguised it as trying to regain my breath.

"You know how I almost got the touchdown at the beginning of the game on Saturday? Well, I was hoping…"

"You want to know if I could teach you the way I run?"

I tried really hard to look like I wasn't surprised. "Yeah."

"Sure, dude."

"...Really, just like that?"

"Yeah, I see that you want to get better at this, and it's not a problem for me."

"Aren't you scared that I might get faster than you?"

Patrick laughed. "If you do, well, I must have broken a leg. You think I'm satisfied with 5.2 seconds. Just watch me. Someday, I'll make it 4.2 seconds."

I whistled. "Can't imagine you faster."

"Well, how about we make a deal? You imagine it, and I'll help you get faster."

I held out a hand.

"Deal." I said as Patrick shook my hand.

* * *

As I stepped back out on the field with Patrick, I noticed that we weren't the last ones to get out. Last I saw, there was still plenty of people in the locker room, and there weren't as many people out on the field.

"How do you feel, Lincoln?" Patrick asked.

"Honestly, after all that you taught me?" I asked, pulling one of my arms across my chest with my other arm. "A little sore, but I can manage."

"Alright, see you. Gonna take a little warming-up jog."

I nodded to him as he jogged away. As I pulled the other arm across my chest, I spotted Terrence talking to someone else. As soon as he saw me, he quietly stared at me. I stared back before continuing to stretch. At some time, he turned back to the other person to talk, though I noticed him taking a look every once in a while.

Finally, Coach Johnson came out. "ALRIGHT! Gather around, everyone."

As everyone came together, Patrick nodded to me as he jogged up, kneeling with me as everyone else did.

"Good afternoon, everyone! Everyone have a good first day of school?"

The only answers were moans and groans, including from me.

"Everyone put the first game out of their heads?"

The groans immediately silenced.

"Well, either way, today's a new day. That means new opportunities." I couldn't help but feel that as he looked over the team, his gaze lingered on me.

"Okay, line up! Let's do some 40 meter dashes!"

The hesitation I felt was instantly wiped away as I clenched my fist.

Let's do this.

* * *

"...Lincoln, what happened? You went back to eight seconds, that's your old time at the beginning of the season! You were making such good improvement as well, a whole half second!"

As the team laughed, I walked back to the sideline, where Patrick grimaced. As I stopped beside him, he shrugged.

"I told you my running form takes time to get used to!"

I know. I just wanted to believe that I got done with the hard part.

* * *

Next chapter: That part you know comes with every sports thing.


	8. Down 7 - Montage

...IT'S TIME FOR A MONTAGE!

But first review responses.

Gamelover41592 - Yeah, Lincoln is struggling, but any worthwhile change doesn't come easy.

That Engineer - I think that at that point, Rita knew that Lincoln was going to try to weasel out of it by asking for something easy and not physically demanding. She knew at this point that if he could, he wasn't going to exercise in the first place.

I maintain my view that Lincoln screwed Lincoln.

Asylum117 - Not either of those. It was that Lincoln was trying out Patrick's running position: how to step, where to keep his chest positioned, that sort of thing. A runner's form is very important and could be the key to squeezing out those few more seconds.

An example? I read that according to Usain Bolt's coach, 'his form isn't perfect.' Yes, USAIN BOLT could go faster if he adjusted his form.

DarthWill3 - Well, don't worry about Patrick accidently wooing Ronnie Anne. I actually don't have any plans for her. One of the lessons I've learned from 'Brave and the Loud': If you don't have a plan for them, don't be afraid to cut them.

Wolvenstrom - Maybe :3

And now the big boy, T.

T - First one, I've already explained myself over why I feel Rita would act this way over the past author's notes.

Also no offense to you, you seem like a well meaning person, but I do feel like you're underestimating what a bad attitude can do to a person. As far as I see it, a bad attitude is reflective of what you think. What's on the inside will eventually show on the outside and all that.

When I heard about Lincoln saying that he did all he could during 'Making The Case', let's not forget that that was him telling us that he did all he could to win the race, to win the karate thing, to win the kid pageant. As far as we know, what he would describe as 'doing everything', we might describe as 'doing the bare minimum.' I mean, we seen Lincoln perform when he's under pressure or when the chips are done, like lifting the giant garbage monster over his head and tossing it all the way to the curb in 'Chore and Peace', or biking to give electricity to the entire house and his family's usage for SIX HOURS in 'The Green House.'

So if he can do this things, why did he lose?

Simple answer, the plot of the episode depended on it.

My theory, Lincoln didn't try as hard as he did. He could have, but he instead did the minimum and figured that just because he wanted it so badly, it would make the difference. Now that I wrote that, I can't help but imagine Lincoln looking tearfully up at the wishing star, saying "I wish I had a trophy! I do! I do!"

Either way, the point I wanted to make was that Lincoln's attitude is what stops him. I won't deny that the idea that all Lincoln needs to do is just turn his frown upside down and then he's suddenly better at doing the thing than his sisters. But whatever triumphs that Lincoln could come into, if he doesn't change his attitude, it will be lost to him.

Also, didn't Lincoln actually like playing football during the end of 'The Loudest Yard?'

Again, I don't mean any offense. If you feel like I misinterpreted what you said, feel free to PM me or to write another review. Either way, I appreciate your readership. And that goes for everyone.

With that said, WHAT DO WE NEED?!

Disclaimer: I don't own the Loud House.

* * *

Day 1

* * *

My alarm clock rang, my hand darting out from under the blanket to slap the snooze button. I stared up at the ceiling, feeling the weight of a new day on him. I took a deep breath.

"Okay, Lincoln." I said to myself. "Rise and shine."

I threw the blankets off me and got off my bed. Looking underneath my bed, I pulled out two 5 lb pink weights. I resisted the urge to sigh.

"Thank goodness that Lynn outgrew these, otherwise she would have noticed that these were missing, and then she would never let me hear the end of it."

Setting the weights on my desk, I opened my laptop and searched 'Easy weightlifting at.' Finding some promising exercises, I read them carefully, making sure to follow every single warning and instruction. Finally, I took a deep breath, grabbed the weights, looked at the screen as I squared myself.

'One…' I thought to myself as I did the first rep.

* * *

"So how does this work, Patrick?"

It was before practice, and me and Patrick had managed to get out of class with plenty of time to practice. Right now, Patrick was setting out a couple of sticks on the field, looking them over carefully before nodding to himself. Taking out his mobile phone, he tapped on something before looking at me.

"Alright, Lincoln. The sticks are the forty meters! Just remember what I taught you and kept to it!"

I looked at the stick then at my bare arms and legs. "Hey, aren't we missing something? Shouldn't I have weights or a parachute or something like that?"

Patrick looked at me weirdly before shaking his head. "Man, you must watch way too much anime! Nah, we're trying to increase your speed here, not trying to make you a pack mule. Just run as fast as you can, okay, Lincoln?"

...Okay, I thought to myself as I stretched and loosened my muscles as I stood at the starting stick. Standing there, I got into position, my eyes completely focused on the other stick. A slight breeze started to pick up.

"GO!" Patrick shouted.

Like a lightning bolt, I sprinted forward, keeping all the tips and tricks that Patrick taught me. I pressed myself to go faster, the wind itself blowing past my face. Then, I sprinted past the sticks and slowed down, sweat starting to pour down the sides of my face as I looked downstairs, completely focused on catching my breath.

Hearing footsteps coming near me, I looked up to see Patrick looking at the time that I set.

"So…" I took another deep breath, the tiredness starting to give way to numbness. "What's my time?"

"7.79 seconds. You're starting to get the hang of it."

"Okay." I said as I got back on the sticks and into sprinting position.

"What are you doing?" Patrick asked.

"Gonna run another one."

"No, take a break, Lincoln. Rest up until you're hundred percent again."

"Huh?"

"No offense, Lincoln, but I am the expert here about this kind of thing. If you want to train stamina, we'll be going to practice in a while. If you want to train speed, we gotta do this way."

I thought about it before shrugging.

"Whatever you say, man."

Patrick knows this kind of thing better than I do.

* * *

'ShuffleShuffleShuffleDROP!'

I breathed heavily, forcing my legs to continue moving as I shuffled in place. At Coach's whistle, I dropped to the floor again, my chest hitting the ground before I got up again, staring straight ahead as I waited for Coach to blow the whistle again. Just a second later, the whistle blew, and I snapped down to the ground again.

'20…'

Just after that, Coach blew twice on his whistle. I relaxed from my position, ducking down air like it was the sweetest ice water. I then reminded myself to dunk as many ice cubes into a class of ice cold water when I got home. By the time that I managed to remind myself that I was still on the football field, I was standing with everyone else, all standing in a group and on the outer rim of the field.

"Alright, everyone. Time for the end of practice! Everyone give me 10 laps!"

At that sound, everyone began running. I tried to keep pace with the group, but it wasn't long before I started lagging behind, already wishing to be done with my ten laps. Seriously, I thought to myself, I've been through practice, why can't we just end right there instead of having to do more exercise. Looking around me, I saw everyone soon settling into their own groups.

But more importantly, I saw groups already starting to finish and stand off to the sides. And I was dead last.

I looked to the closest person I could find, and I wasn't surprised to see Ross, keeping a stoic face even if it was red and drenched with sweat. It almost reminded me of a train, a slightly neglected train that hadn't been maintained. I forced the image out of my head as I forced my body to go faster.

I might as well have tried to drive a car with no gas in it. The distance between the two of us slowly closed but there was still a huge space between myself. Either way, I forced myself to keep Ross at the same distance.

I couldn't help cringing still. Before, I would not have caught up to Ross because I would not have seen the point. Now, I couldn't catch up because I was just too tired.

As I finally crossed the finish line and completed my laps, I looked up and saw Ross not paying attention to me as he got into the huddle.

I promised myself that before this season was over, I wasn't just going to pass Ross, I was going to go to the middle of the pack.

* * *

Opening the door to my house, Lynn looked over from her spot of the couch. I ignored her as I walked over to the other side of the couch and draped my body over the spot, letting my bag fall by the wayside. Lynn looked between the TV and me, as I wordlessly stared up at the ceiling.

"Rough practice?"

I opened my mouth to respond.

 _Remember, Lincoln, you don't go number two until you become number one!_

NOPE!

"Yeah…"

"Huh, you know, if I didn't know any better, I think I see some muscle on your arm there!"

Oh no oh no oh no oh no-

"Guess practice is doing you some good!" Lynn chuckled as she turned back to the TV. I resisted the urge to sigh in relief. Just then…

"TOUCHDOWN! NUMBER 42 SCORED A TOUCHDOWN FOR THE DETROIT LIONS!"

"WOO!" Lynn cheered as she tried to stand up, only to put more weight on her ankle as she did so. As she started to fall to the ground, I quickly leaned over and stretched out my arm. Her hand shot out, and I nearly fell off the couch from the sudden weight, but I managed to hold on. With a grunt, Lynn seated herself back on the couch.

She turned and grinned. "Nice save."

I nodded back. "No problem."

Lynn turned back to the TV, and eventually, I figured I might as well watch while I rested. Looking at it, I quickly recognized it as a NFL game between the Detroit Lions vs… I think the Buccaneers? At least, that was what I was guessing from their mascot.

This was a game from the big leagues, where I was pretty sure that Patrick wanted to play someday. I slowly sat up, trying to make sense of all the scores and information that was scrolling through. Then I remembered something that had been bothering me. And I did happen to have a expert with me.

"Hey, Lynn?"

"Yeah, Lincoln?"

"How come the timer doesn't stop during the last minute of the game?"

Lynn looked at me weirdly. "Why do you need to know?"

You can't let her know that you're going to try playing! Think, Lincoln, THINK!

"Well...I figured that I was going to be stuck at these next few games, and since mom took away all my comic books, I got nothing to do at them. So I figured that I might as well know what exactly is going on?"

Lynn's grin practically spread ear to ear as she lost attention in the game for the first time. "Well, little bro of mine, have you come to the right place! Now let your sensei of all things pigskin enlighten you!"

I stuck my tongue out when she mentioned pigskin. "Eww."

* * *

Day 5

* * *

As I opened my eyes, I wiped the sleep (and eye boogers) away with one flick of my wrist. Blinking a few eyes, I nodded to myself before getting out of bed, tossing my covers aside. Getting down on my knees, I rummaged around under my bed, until I pulled out the two dumbbells.

Setting them aside on my desk, I turned my laptop on, clicked on a link in my favorites, and looked over the instructions of the first exercise. Picking up the dumbells, I took another deep breath.

"Another day, another time to work out." I said to myself as I started the first rep.

* * *

I took my position on the sticks as I stared out at my goal.

"GO!"

I shot forward, my legs pumping furiously as I tried to beat my record. Passing the sticks, I gulped in air as I looked at Patrick, looking at my time.

"What's my time?" I asked, putting my hands on my hips.

"6.8 seconds. You're improving, man."

I pumped my fist.

* * *

I traced the ball's path through the air as it came at a spiral at me. Slightly dipping my knees and holding out my hands close to my chest, a small puff of air escaped my mouth as the ball landed in my hand and slightly rocked my chest. As I jogged over and tossed the football in the nearby bin, I looked over at the thrower.

Terrence gave me a slight nod as he turned back to the the next person to throw to.

"After this, 10 LAPS!"

Once Terrence and everyone had their turn throwing the ball and catching, we began to run. While it wasn't as fast as a month ago, soon I was behind everyone else, even Ross.

Spying my target, I began to spend a bit more energy, slowly closing the distance between the two of us.

Then it was the homestretch.

As people started finishing up their laps, I was about ready to pass Ross. Suddenly, Ross looked back before quickly picking up his pace. I saw this, before forcing myself to run faster.

It was no use, Ross crossed the finish line before I did. As I slowed to a stop, I couldn't help but glare at Ross. Ross couldn't help but look back at me, and I could already interpret the message he was sending me.

Like heck I'm going to be behind you.

Oh, it's on, Ross.

* * *

"Another rough practice?" Lynn asked as I walked inside and left my bag beside my shoes as I kicked them off and flopped on the other side of the couch. It took me a while to turn my head from the fabric of the couch, my face free to speak again.

"Yeah."

"Keep at it, Lincoln. Maybe you'll be able to keep up with me someday."

"Uh-huh. So who are the Lions playing today?"

"Umm… Atlanta Falcons."

"...That was a nice pass."

"I KNOW, RIGHT!"

* * *

Day 10

* * *

As I woke up, a couple of facts flashed through my mind.

It was going to be the weekend in about two days.

I needed to complete any homework tonight.

It was another home game, or that's what apparently everyone calls a game that takes place in our town.

Grabbing my dumbbells, I raised an eyebrow before doing my exercises. My dumbbells were also feeling lighter lately, to the point that I don't feel really pushed.

* * *

As I crossed the finish line, I looked at Patrick expectantly.

"6.78 seconds."

I blinked. "What?"

* * *

'ShuffleshuffleshuffleshuffleDROP20GETUP!'

I got up in time for Coach to blow the whistle twice.

Immediately running to the group, I got into position and began breathing in and out. As soon as Coach blew the whistle, I was off like a rocket, determined to not be last. A month of coming in last in the 10 laps was far enough.

My body didn't agree with that sentiment, and slowly, I started to slow down, more and more people passing me until I was once again behind Ross. Only this time, Ross was speeding up, periodically looking over his shoulder to see me before speeding up even more. I gritted my teeth as I picked up my own speed.

Then we went over the finish line.

I resisted the urge to scowl.

* * *

"Tough day?" Lynn asked as I came inside. I felt my lips having the shape of a scowl.

"Yeah." I said, starting to go up the stairs. Then I looked back.

"How the Lions doing?"

"Ehh...We're down 7 points in the third quarter."

"That's not too bad."

"Wait...make that 10 points."

"...I'm going to go upstairs now."

Heading upstairs and into my room, I put my bag to the side before flopping onto my bed. Staring up at the ceiling for a while, I thought about the game tomorrow. My eyes drifted to the bag that was sitting on the ground.

Getting off my bed, I opened it up and looked over all my equipment, and figured that they could use a bit of cleaning. Putting them aside, I saw the jersey that I had to wear as part of my uniform. Seeing a bit of color that wasn't red, I took it out and unfurled.

There, a big 21 was there on my chest.

...How did I miss that?

* * *

Day 11

* * *

Yesterday, I spent what time I had left to make sure that everything was ready. My equipment was wiped, my jersey was washed, and I made sure to do some stretches that I read on the website. As far as I was concerned, I was ready to make my proper debut on the field.

I could only watch from the bench as everyone else got to play the Beverly Hills Chihuahuas.

Seriously.

When Coach didn't put me in at the start of the match, I accepted it. Probably had another thing for me in mind.

Then first quarter. Second quarter. Half-time. Then third and finally fourth.

I watched kicks, touchdowns, blocks, and fumbles. All of them happened without me. I was standing in the huddle with everyone else as we planned out what to do next. It was the last play, our 10 to their 14, with one more play after the timeout we called.

And Terrence looked like he was having a bad day.

"Maybe a Hail Mary?" Number 11, Terrence's favorite receiver, suggested for a play. Terrence shook his head.

"No, these Chihuahuas have been doing great at shutting down my passes. I can't get anything through."

I looked at Patrick, who looked like he wanted to say something. Before, I wondered why even with Patrick's speed, we weren't steamrolling the other team. Turns out that Patrick 5.2 was his absolute maximum, and his dad and coach warned him against using his maximum speed excessively, apparently being bad for his developing body. Still, he had one more burst in him. The memory of last game crossed my mind. I cleared up my throat.

"Terrence…"

"No, that won't work either."

"Terrence."

"Sure, just hand them the ball! Just make it simple!"

"Terrence!"

"We're NOT doing that!"

Without thinking, I quickly thumped Terrence on the helmet with my own helmet. Almost immediately, I felt the entire team look at me. I looked back to see Terrence with his jaw hanging open.

"Lincoln," Coach frowned. "Was that really necessary?"

"Yeah it was, Coach." Terrence replied. "Thanks. So what do you suggest?"

"You know that thing you did with Patrick during the last game? You should do that, then throw the ball to someone."

"You can't be serious, Loud!" "Patrick's too fast, he'll mess it up!" "Terrence, you seriously can't be considering this!"

I was unmoved. "Hey, at this point, the other team is probably expecting a run. You could even look like you're going to go for a run.

"We can do it, Terrence!" Patrick spoke up. "Maybe you can give me some kind of signal?"

Terrence stared at Patrick before sighing. "Sorry. Guess I'm too used to our old Running Back's speed. Okay, Patrick, pay attention."

"Yeah, Terrence?"

"Pay attention to my feet. Left foot forward, I want you to take it. Right foot forward, I'm gonna throw it. Got it?"

Patrick nodded. "Got it!"

"Matt, you ready for the play?"

Matt nodded. "Let's pull out a win!"

With that, the offense team got up and started to walk towards the field. Terrence looked back to me and nodded before continuing on. I didn't feel like giving it back.

I watched as our team assembled themselves, the blockers looking like they were ready to push forward to give Patrick room. The other team readily took the bait, eager to push forward and stop the run. There was quiet as everyone looked.

"SET, HIKE!"

The ball was snapped to Terrence scant moments before the blockers were pushing back the other team. Terrence stepped back, holding the ball out to Patrick as he ran by. At the last second, Terrence pulled the ball back as Patrick passed by, the Running Back running to the edge. Immediately, everyone else on the Chihuahuas that was trying to break down the wall of blockers immediately set their eyes on Patrick.

Missing Matt as he ran on the other side.

It was too late by the time the chihuahuas noticed.

"What happened? Did your team win?" Lynn asked as I entered through the door and started going up the stairs.

"Yeah, we won."

* * *

Day 12

* * *

The alarm clock started ringing. I blinked.

Then I sighed, got up, and got my toiletries. Why bother with weights today? They barely felt like anything these days.

* * *

"6.76 seconds." Patrick said, looking up, before looking away. "I mean, it's still a good time. You know, most people don't improve their dash times this well in a month."

Strangely enough, that didn't make me feel better.

* * *

I slowed down, another day of Ross keeping up ahead of me, though I wasn't putting much effort into it. As I propped myself up on my knees, I felt the disappointment start to churn. Really must have messed up so badly, Coach didn't want to put me in. And if I'm benched for the rest of the season…

What's the point?

I got into the huddle, did the chant thing, before standing up with everyone else. As I started for the locker room, I caught a glance of Ross looking at me. I could almost swear he looked kind of...concerned?

"Hey, Loud. You alright?"

I turned to face Terrence. "Yeah, why?"

The quarterback shrugged. "I don't know. You didn't seem to be at the top of your game today."

I returned the shrug. "I don't know either. Guess I just feel a little under the weather."

Terrence rubbed his chin as he looked at me carefully. "Are you sad that you didn't get to play yesterday?"

I looked away.

Terrence rubbed the back of his head. "Look, Coach didn't put you in because he still isn't sure where to put you."

I looked at him quizzically. "Huh?"

"Alright, listen up, Loud. By means, continue working on your speed and catching. But let me tell you, if you want Coach to field you, you're going to need to find your position, your niche. Football is all about specialization, one player being good at one thing and grouped up with the same kind of people to cover each other weaknesses, you understand?"

I slowly nodded, not noticing as Terrence nodded back and headed back to the locker room.

* * *

I think Lynn said something as I entered my house.

* * *

Day 19

* * *

The alarm clock rang. I slapped the snooze button. I got up from my bed.

Turning on the computer, I picked up from where I left off from the website detailing all the plays in football.

* * *

I ran past the sticks, before jogging back to Patrick.

"How was I?"

"6.62 seconds, man." Patrick smiled. "You're getting used to this."

"Yeah, I suppose I am." I said. "By the way, how about them Lions, huh?"

* * *

"Come on, Lincoln!"

"Don't let him pass you, Ross!"

Me and Ross didn't pay attention to the cheers as we focused on the finish and each other. Coming to the homestretch, we were head to head, side to side, him using his size and weight to block me, and me using my new quickness to avoid his attempts. Then we crossed the finish line.

"I think it was a tie!" "Dang it, I had 2 dollars on Loud!" "No, Ross definitely crossed it first!" "Nuh-uh!" While some of the people began to haggle over which one of us won in our race, others were still busy getting their breath back.

Me and Ross ignored everyone's commotion as we focused on regaining our breath.

Ross looked at me and mouthed 'Next time.'

I couldn't help smirking. 'Sure.'

Ross returned the smirk.

* * *

"Did I miss anything?" I asked as I came in, finding exactly what I expected for the past three weeks.

"You're just in time for 2nd quarter!" Lynn said, facing the TV. Walking over to the other side of the couch, I set my things aside and began to analyze what the Lions were doing.

* * *

Day 24

* * *

As soon as the clock rang, I slapped the snooze button and threw off the covers. Looking underneath the bed, I dragged out the milk gallon, before taking a seat in front of my computer. Logging on, I searched 'DIY weightlifting.'

I began to follow the instructions.

* * *

"6.5 seconds!" Patrick called out as I walked over. Patrick handed over his phone and walked over to the sticks as Lincoln reset the timer.

"Ready...GO!"

* * *

The ball landed in my arms like an airplane landing on a landing strip. Fitting my hands on the striped part of the football, I threw it back, frowned a little bit as I saw that the corkscrew wasn't as picture perfect as my passing drill partner. Terrence caught it, before throwing it back to me.

I caught it and threw it back.

He caught it and threw it back.

Terrence began to pick up the pace, and I had to quicken my pace as well.

"Alright, everyone look at that! That's what I want to see!" Coach called out, wanting everyone else on the team to come watch us.

I completely ignored him, completely focused on keeping up with Terrence and improving my passing.

Soon enough, at least that was what it felt like to me…

"TIME!"

At that, everyone stopped their passing, and looked to Coach for the next instruction.

"Alright, let's end practice here. Everyone get in line for end laps, and remember the new rule! Anyone that falls behind Lincoln and/or Ross will have to do an extra two laps."

A few people groaned while I couldn't help exchanging evil grins with Ross.

* * *

"I'm home." I called out. Lynn turned to face me.

"Hey, Lincoln. You ready for the Lions to win this week?"

I shook my head. "Gotta go do my homework. We got a game tomorrow."

Lynn looked at me with an eyebrow raised. "We? You're thinking about taking this thing more seriously? Have you been following what I told you?"

"...Well, when I say 'we', I mean my team is going to do all the work while I stay on the bench. And don't worry, I've been following what you said." I told her as I went upstairs.

Well, almost everything she said.

As I entered my room, my walkie-talkie rang. I picked it up and held it up to my ear.

"Yo, Clyde."

"Sup, dude. Listen, want to hang out at the mall tomorrow?"

"Sorry, man. We got a game up in Troy. We'll be there all day."

"Oh…"

"How about Sunday?"

"Nah, that won't work for me either. My dads got something planned for that day."

"Shoot, sorry man."

"Yeah, it's okay. Just don't break a leg out there tomorrow."

"Shouldn't it be 'break a leg'?"

"Well, I don't want you to get bad luck."

"Well, I would really like for you to say it that way anyway. I already got one person that gets on my case about bad luck during games, and I don't need another."

"Alright, break a leg out there."

"Thanks, Clyde. See you on Monday."

"Yeah."

I put the walkie-talkie away and looked over my equipment. They looked like they could use a cleaning. As I prepared to sneak downstairs and into the backyard, I couldn't help but think about what I could do next game.

I had knowledge about every play. I could catch, and was decently fast compared to everyone else. I bet Coach could make me something like a catcher that runs the option route, where I could change my direction depending on what the defense looked like.

Either way, my hands itched for the chance to run with the ball again.

* * *

Author's Note:

Boy that is a lot of brackets that I had to use.


	9. Down 8 - Breakthrough

Boy, actually trying to write actual football plays is hard.

Well, Montage chapter I believe I can call a success. Let's see what questions you have for me.

That Engineer: Maybe :3

DarthWill3: All part of Lincoln's way of playing Football.

Asylum117: You remember the ripped kid from Kung Fu Hustle? Maybe something like that.

1043 and FrancisVamp0822: Well… Don't necessarily count out the cowboys yet…

Wolvenstrom: Well, spoilers…

DJTimmer: Don't worry. It will.

DreadedCandiru2: Just so you know, won't be covering next season.

354wii: Still, you have to admit that 8.0 seconds to 6.5 seconds in about two months is still pretty impressive.

Agui972: Plus, good excuse for a montage.

T: Wow. It's no problem. It's a lot to unpack, but it is nice to see engagement. Let's see.

I will admit, the stick and carrot method didn't come to me at that moment. Still, considering the state of emotion that Rita was when Lincoln got Lynn injured, I doubt she would think of it. And yeah, you can say part of my motivation for writing this story was to see if I could write a story where Lincoln actually tries in this plotline.

As for Lincoln's attitude changing, you can say that was what the last two chapters were trying to do. The moment on the field wasn't a direct change but more of a promise to himself to do better. However, as we have seen from the past two chapters, promising to change and actually trying to change are two separate things.

I will admit, that is an interesting theory. Lincoln does look up to his sisters, and while they do try to teach him lessons that will be good for them, it does feel like they're careless enough not to notice when they seem to show the wrong message.

As for the calling out, frankly I already did that in my last full length story 'Brave and The Loud' (go ahead and check it out if you haven't already.) And frankly, I feel like I'm already juggling enough relationships to try to add Lincoln's relationships with his other sisters in detail. Still, don't worry, there will be something between Lynn and Lincoln.

Finally, good luck with your English. You're doing better than me at the second language thing.

With all of that said (whew), let Lincoln TRUE DEBUT MATCH BEGIN!

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the Loud House.**

* * *

The water dripped from the faucet, splashing against the sink with clock-like regularity. Must not have shut the faucet all the way, I thought to myself as I turned the knob extra hard, making sure that it didn't have much turn left. Much better, I nodded as the water droplets stopped falling.

I turned back to looking back at the mirror, at my reflection before taking a deep breath.

"Today's the day, Lincoln." I said to myself, watching how my reflection copied how my lips moved. "No matter what, you're getting back on the field."

I nodded to myself, sealing my promise.

Leaving the bathroom, I crossed the hallway, entered my room, grabbed my bag, and climbed down the stairs. As I did so, I could hear my family, living up to their namesake as they loudly talked about their plans for today, what they heard from their friends from schools about you know who and you know what, and other such things. Reaching the end of the stairs, I entered the kitchen.

"Morning, everyone."

All conversation stopped as everyone turned to face me. I looked around, looking and feeling a little confused. "What?"

Everyone just continued staring at, before Mom spoke up, appearing with a bowl and a plate of fruit. "Morning, Lincoln! Come on, I know you have a big day ahead of you. So I looked up 'good breakfasts before football games.' Eat up!"

"Thanks, mom." I said as she set my breakfast in front of me. Plain wheaties and a sliced grapefruit.

Two months ago, I would have sighed and taken one or two bites. Now, I immediately dug in, the blandness of the taste second to the fact that I was getting some food in my stomach. As I finished up all the cereal, I grabbed the bowl, ready to drain it of the milk before I realized that the rest of the table were still staring at me.

"What?"

There was quiet before Luna spoke up. "I guess you can say it's kinda weird, seeing you like this."

"Like what?"

"Like an actual football player!" Lori exclaimed. "I mean, no offense Lincoln, we were all pretty sure that you were going to come home asking mom to take you out of the team as soon as possible."

I leaned back in my chair, areadly reading in between the lines of what Lori was saying.

"Enough to bet?"

Everyone of my sisters froze, before immediately doing their best to look innocent, from suddenly finding their food more interesting to practicing their whistling. I turned my attention to one sister, who I knew was awful at hiding the fact she lied.

"Lisa…"

Lisa grinned nervously and tried to look away, before peeking back. I grinned like a cat did at a cornered mouse. Finally, my genius sister sighed as she turned back.

"3 dollars on a week."

"Lisa!" "Come on!" "Are you serious?"

"What about the rest of you?" I asked, turning back to the rest of them. It wasn't long before they spilled the beans.

"2 on three days." "4 on six." "3 quid on 2 weeks." "5 party city bucks on a week." "Like, all the money on a year!"

"Leni, the season only lasts for 6 months." I couldn't help saying.

Leni's eyes shined. "Really? Does that mean I win?"

The rest of the sisters grumbled as they dug inside their pockets and started to give Leni their bets for the pool.

"You know, I'm not exactly sure Leni understood what you're supposed to be doing in a betting pool." Luan frowned as she slid over her bet.

Leni clapped her hands in delight, before reaching over and hugging me. "Thank you, Linky! I…"

Leni paused as she leaned back to look at me again, before hugging me again.

"Umm… What are you doing, Leni?" I asked.

"Wow, Linky. Is that actual muscle I'm feeling?" Leni said, feeling my arms.

"Wait, really?" Before I could really react, the rest of my sisters came over and started to feel my arms. Thank goodness none of their hands wondered anywhere else, or else I would have started feeling really uncomfortable.

"NOO! The butler outfit won't fit if you keep going at this rate!"

"I can always fix the fit, Lola. In fact, this is giving me so many ideas, Linky."

"Does that mean that you can actually put up a better fight when we do mud-wrestling, Lincoln?"

"Okay, okay!" I said, waving them off. "Come on, I got to go soon!"

I picked up the bowl of milk and started to drain it as Lisa spoke up.

"Still, I suppose it is good that you are finding some good in this new activity, brother, even if it is such a barbaric and useless sport…"

I finished the bowl and looked at Lisa, feeling a little annoyed at her comment. But then, Lynn chimed in.

"HEY, WHAT ARE YOU CALLING AN USELESS SPORT!"

Lisa didn't look like she was affected by Lynn's outburst, and just adjusted her glasses. "Please, studies have shown that at least in the US alone in the year of 2014, there was an average of 4.9 injuries during a thursday game, and 7.6 injuries during weekend and monday games. While it can be slightly amusing, I fail to see why so much people put so much effort into this sport, especially when other studies show that 0.08 of all high school senior football players will actually be recruited by one of the teams in the NFL."

While Lynn was about to launch into another rant, I simply finished up my fruit, gathered up my plates, and put them into the sink as I took my stuff. "Alright, I gotta go now. See you guys later."

I was only barely aware of everyone else saying 'see you later', though I was slightly more aware of Lynn telling me 'remember: no number one until you're number one!' I ended up suppressing a shudder. Well, if there was one thing that Lynn's advice had done for me, I will admit that I have become completely comfortable with public restrooms.

Leaving my house, I hurried through the streets until the sight of the football field came into view. At the parking lot, a yellow school bus was waiting, along with the rest of the Roosters. Walking into the parking lot, and getting a few hellos from some of my teammates, I looked around until I saw who I was looking for. Walking up to him, I tapped him on the shoulder.

"Yeah?" Terrence turned around along with Matt, number 11. "Hey, Lincoln. What's up?"

"Hey, Terrence." Come on, Lincoln. It's simple. Just ask him. "You think...you know… Can I play in the first quarter?"

Terrence raised an eyebrow. "I don't know, can you? But seriously, I'm not the one you should be asking about that."

"I know, but I figure if I talk to you first, you could talk to Coach and make my case sound better?"

Terrence nodded. "Well, if you want me to make your case, first give me a case that's worth defending. You remember what I told you before. What niche do you think you can fill on this team?"

"Wide Receiver with a speciality in the Option Route."

Terrence looked slightly impressed. "I admit. I didn't even think you knew that term. Still, you talk the talk, but can you walk the walk?"

"Come on, Snow White." Matt said with a curious grin. "Let's see what you got."

"Football!" Terrence called out, making one of the team rummage through the ball bag. A few moments later, he caught a football before turning back to me. I dropped my bag as I prepared to run.

"Let's do something simple. Go long!"

I immediately broke into a sprint, getting far before I turned back. Terrence threw the ball, and I judged the arc. Calculating the place it would land, I sped up a bit further, before quickly turning around and holding out my hands. The ball dropped into them a second later.

I threw the ball back. Terrence caught it, and I ran back to them. As I did, I saw that the rest of the team had stopped what they were doing and were looking at me.

"Nice. Let's see what you're going to do with someone on your tail. Thomas! Mark Lincoln."

One of the defense players nodded and came over. I took my stance along with him. We both tensed up, ready to run.

"GO!"

Both of us started running forward. Thomas and I jockeyed for position, struggling to get ahead while we both looked at Terrence. Terrence simply looked at us, the ball still down in his hands.

Have to make an opening.

I switched from a sprint to a jog, letting Thomas run ahead of me before he realized what had happened. Before he could turn around, Terrence already threw the ball. I caught it before running back, looking back to see Thomas shake his head before running back.

The rest of the team were laughing their heads as Thomas and me came back, even giving me a few slaps on the back. Terrence looked a little contemplative as I threw back the ball. He looked around.

"Defense. Assemble a regular 7 man defense. Matt, get the other receivers and talk with Lincoln."

As the defense got into position, Matt and the other receivers came over.

"Okay, Linc, how do you want to handle this?" Matt asked, while the rest of the receivers looked attentively. I thought for a moment as I observed the position, before going back into the huddle.

"Half and half. Two of you go on the right, and me and the other guy go on the left. Three of you do your usual routes."

Matt shrugged. "Your call dude. Harry, you're with Lincoln."

As Matt and the other guy moved ahead, I nodded to Harry before both of us got into position. Just before we could do that…

"Everyone, what are you guys doing?" Coach asked, coming into the parking lot. "Come on, put away the balls. We got to go now!"

At that, the defense formation collapsed as Terrence threw the ball back to the ball boys. He looked at me and mouthed 'I'll see what I can do.' I nodded before I noticed someone walking up to me.

"Dude, what was that all about?" Patrick asked me as he walked up with his stuff.

"Trying out for the offense team. By the way, where were you? I didn't see you until now."

Patrick shrugged. "My dad just dropped me. Also, nice. Maybe we can play together?"

I smiled. "Sure, man."

I held out my hand for a fistbump. Patrick looked at me before returning the smile and the fistbump. As we waited to enter the bus, I couldn't help but feel someone glaring at me.

Turning around, I saw someone turn their head and look off to the side. It was Thomas, the defensive player that I had ran up against earlier. As I was turning back to look ahead, I couldn't help trying to put his face to something, because I couldn't help feeling that I had seen him before.

Wasn't he one of the people that was yelling at Ross at the first game?

I then shrugged and put the thought of that mind. Things like that can wait. I was going to need all the concentration I had to not mess up… at least, accidentally, not on purpose like last time.

* * *

"Switch sides!"

I absentmindedly switched sides, keeping my right leg to the side while rotating my pelvis, warming up my hips flexor and hips adductors muscles. Having done these stretches plenty of times, I looked around the Troy football field, and mentally compared it to our own. Frankly, the only differences that I could spot was that their benches looked like hey were made of metal while ours were made of wood and they had their own banners hanging around the place.

Still, our opponents were the Troy Trojans. Heh, Troy Trojans. Wonder if we can beat them if we give them a mini wooden horse with a list of fake plays.

"Alright, gather around!" Coach said to all of us. As the entire team knelt down, Coach looked around.

"Listen up. The Trojans may be a new team on the block, but they are tough. But I know, you guys are tougher." Coach clapped his hands together. "So let's show these Trojans how the Roosters play. BRING IT IN!"

I reached in with the rest of the team as we chanted. "WE ARE THE ROOSTERS! ROOSTERS! WE ARE THE ROOSTERS! AND THAT'S WHAT WE COCK-A-DOODLE-DOOOOOOOOOOO!"

After that, Terrence ran out to meet with the Trojans' quarterback. Both of them looked at the referee, who held out a coin. The Trojans' quarterback called out something before all three looked at the coin that had dropped to the ground. Terrence ran back.

"We're gonna receive!"

As Coach started to call out people that was going to be in the kick-off, I held my helmet tightly, hoping to hear my name. But Coach was calling out the positions too quickly. 7th, not me. 8th, not me. 9th, not me. 10th, not me. 11th…

"Lincoln."

I blinked before looking straight at Coach. He smiled. "Go show them your stuff, Loud."

I returned the smile as I put on my helmet and tightened the chin straps. Jogging out onto the field, I found a spot near the endzone that wasn't occupied before staring ahead, my knees bent and hands open. I was ready.

The referee blew his whistle, the crowds' cheers got louder as the kicker for the Trojans booted the ball. Following the arc of the ball, I saw that it wasn't going to be anywhere near me. One of my teammates near the middle of our formation reached up. I forced myself to be faster, passing the receiver.

The guy caught the ball and ran as fast as he could. I forced myself to keep ahead of him, keeping my eye on anyone from the other team. One came forward, looking a little bigger than me. I gritted my teeth, before rushing forward, ready to stop this guy from getting to our runner.

I lost immediately.

The guy bulldozed right through me, sending me falling to the ground as he continued to run at our runner. By instinct, my hand reached up and grabbed something. Immediately, the guy went down on his face, letting our runner run by.

The Trojan player sat up and turned around, glaring at me. I looked down to see my hand still gripping part of his jersey. I quietly let go before standing back up and offering my hand to him. The guy glared at me before grabbing my hand and pulling himself up. I managed to keep my balance and stand still. Just as the guy got up, the whistle blew up.

I turned around to see that our runner had gotten about 35 feet farther from where we were before he got taken down. I looked back and did the math. We were about 15 yards so… 35 + 15 = 50 yards. Not a bad start I thought to myself.

Then the referee stepped forward, showing his arm vertical in front of his body with his elbow pointing down, before grasping his wrist with the other hand. "HOLDING, NUMBER 21. 10 YARD PENALTY, FIRST DOWN!"

The Trojan patted me on the shoulder. "Thanks for the 10 yards. You mind doing it again?"

With that, he ran back to his team. I could only shake my head. "Dang it."

First time back on the field, and you're messing stuff up… Well, you'll have to do better next time. I ran back to my team and got into the huddle. I did my best to ignore all the slight glares that I got from my teammates. Terrence, meanwhile, looked calmer.

"Paul, good job getting the ball that far on the kick. Lincoln…" I looked up.

"Try not to do that again."

I nodded. "Yeah, Terrence. So what's the plan?"

Terrence thought for a moment. "Let's see how they play. Lincoln, you and Matt get as free as you can. Ray, get Josh out into the field then block. Everyone else, hold positions. Alright?"

"Right!" With that, we all returned to the line, standing across from the Trojans doing the same. I saw the lead linebacker put his hand on the football as he and the rest of the line bent over, ready to collide with the other team's wall. I turned and faced forward at my opponent.

The other guy smirked. "At least I get an easy mark today?"

I frowned, feeling annoyed. "Easy mark?"

"Yeah, Number 21, trips over his shoelace during his first kickoff with the Pontiac Crossers." He glanced down at my shoes. "You sure you tied your shoelaces properly this time?"

"Hardy har." I replied as I listened to Terrence, shouting out numbers that I knew were code to the other team members what the plan was as he adjusted it to what he saw the other team was doing. The linesmen were shifting around, ready for action. The other receiver and running backs were just as antsy.

I realized that this was going to be my first actual play. Not just retrieving the ball from a kick, actual play with formations and positions. I felt my hands start to sweat a little.

"SET, HIKE!"

Like a gunshot fired in the air, I ran forward, the other person on my heels. I looked back. I had to resist the urge to stop.

One thing to see football from a TV screen. Another thing to see football from the sidelines.

It was a whole different thing to actually play it.

So many people, so many moving parts, I could barely make heads or tails of it all. Suddenly, a ball was thrown out, with Matt getting the ball and running with it as far as he could before someone tackled him down. I slowed down, blinking.

It felt so fast, I barely got to do anything.

As Matt picked himself up, I mentally measured the distance that we got. At least we got 18 yards from that one.

Entering back into the huddle, I noticed that Terrence lightly glared at me. "What?"

"You alright out there, Loud? You looked like a deer in headlights out there." Terrence said.

I frowned and nodded. "Sorry, won't happen again."

The look he gave me already said it all. _Don't make me regret this._

I gave a look right back. _You won't._

As we returned back to the line, I smacked the sides of my helmet a bit. Come on, Lincoln. You can't mess up now. You've been working hard for this chance, don't let it all be for nothing.

Besides, you don't need to know everything, just your side. As I stood in front of my opponent, he began to taunt me again. I like his words be the background noise it was and looked around, seeing the other team's positioning as best I could.

Creating a top down view in my head, I looked over everyone's position. From what I could see, the Trojans had concentrated most of their other players on the sides, ready to box in our runners and receivers. But they had left the middle massively open to do so, and my opponent had . They could move back in, but…

I opened my eyes again. I had my route.

"SET! HIKE!"

Play began as everyone started to move around. I ran forward with the other guy shadowing me. I noticed that the other players had their attentions on the others.

Perfect.

Just as I reached a point, I quickly turned, running into the middle. Terrence spotted me and quickly threw the ball towards me. As the ball flew towards me, I saw that the other guy was running at me, hands reached for me. Just as I caught the ball, I quickly sidestepped, letting the guy pass by me.

Immediately booking it straight up the middle, I looked around and saw the guy hot on my tail, with the other blockers for the other receivers immediately breaking off and running to the middle, trying to cut me off. I thought quickly before veering off to the left. The blocker on the left saw me and started to slow down, ready to block my way.

I immediately turned straight.

One down, but two still on my tail and getting closer. No way to trick them, just keep running as fast as I can. They were slowly closing the distance, but every second was a second more for me. The white bars were a blur under my feet. COME ON, LINCOLN!

Someone grabbed me. I forced myself forward, even for another yard. The end zone was both so near and so far away.

Ground greeted my face. Rolling myself over, I stared up at the sky for a few moments, before the referee came over.

"You alright, son?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Give me a moment."

I got up and handed the referee the ball. Looking at the number, I saw I managed to make it to the 80 yard line. Jogging back to my team, everyone welcomed me back with grins and slaps on the back. Terrence himself grinned.

"Nice job out there, Loud."

Could have done better, I thought to myself. Still, I made myself smile. "Least we're close enough for a kick."

Terrence smirked. "Oh, I think we can do better than that. Think you can get that defender of yours out of the way?"

I thought about that. "He might not like it if it looks like I tried that again. So yeah."

Terrence turned to Patrick, who I just realized was there. "There. You got your way in. BREAK!"

I nodded to Patrick, who nodded back before he ran to get into position. I ran to get into my own positioning, stopping in front of the same guy again. And man, he didn't look happy.

"You must think you're so smart."

I smirked. "Maybe."

"Believe me, I'm not letting do that again."

"Cool."

"SET! HIKE!"

I ran forward, the guy dogging my steps and having his full attention on me. I turned, only for the guy to run forward and block me. "WHAT DID I SAY!"

Then his expression of victory morphed into shock as I felt Patrick run past us, completely unopposed. Moments later, I pumped my fist as Patrick entered the end zone, and did a little victory dance as the few people that came from Royal Woods cheered. I turned to see my opponent utterly shocked before turning to me.

I grinned right at him.

"What? You didn't see him coming?"

Without waiting for a response, I ran back to the team, who was slapping Patrick on the back and whooping and hollering. Patrick noticed me coming back and came over, holding his hand up for a high five. I grinned and slapped his hand as the offensive players stood to the side to let the defensive players onto the field.

Dropping onto the bench, I grabbed a nearby water bottle and squirted water into my open mouth. Feeling moisture coat my dry throat, I swallowed and put the water bottle next to my feet. Then I began to watch our defense.

Because now that I thought about it, there was something weird about our defense.

* * *

The whistle blew, calling for halftime. I relaxed from my stance and unlocked my chin strap, letting me pull my helmet off. Running a hand through my hair, I took a deep breath, blew the air out my mouth, before looking up at the scoreboard.

28 - 17, in our favor. All in all, the Trojans needed 11 points to catch up. Thankfully, their kicker missed the first two kicks while our own, Ethan, managed to do it all four times.

Still, not everything was great. 11 points wasn't that much of a buffer between our scores, and if the Trojans rallied, that could be a problem. Then there was the other problem…

"Lincoln!" I snapped out of staring at the scoreboard to see Patrick poking me on the shoulder. "Come on, we gotta get to the locker room with everyone else."

I nodded silently as we both jogged back to the locker room. Inside, everyone knelt down and listened to Coach as he talked. "Good job out there, but let's not get complacent. Keep the cylinders firing at all times. Even if it looks like the other team only got a 1% chance of winning, you have to treat like it is a 100% guaranteed, alright?"

"YES, COACH!"

"Alright, take five."

With that, Coach dismissed everyone there. The team that knelt together eventually became a bunch of different groups. I just sat by myself, just letting myself relax.

"Lincoln, you doing alright there?" I looked up to see Coach looking at me. I nodded in response.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Coach. I can do this all day." Well, that might be stretching it a bit.

"Don't worry, you don't have to. You did pretty good out there. But I'm thinking we'll put Quinn back out there for the second half."

Well, I did ask to be put in for the first quarter, and I got to play first half. Sure, I never got to make huge yard gains, but I like to think that when Terrence wanted a surefire person to get some yards, I was usually a dependable choice.

Hopefully, that still meant Coach was thinking of making me a more permanent member of the offense.

"Alright, Coach."

Coach moved on, and I was going to relax some more until I saw someone staring at from the corner of my eye. The person turned away, and I looked in the same direction, looking like I was focusing on something else when I had him in my eye's view.

Thomas, Cornerback of the defense. And part of the reason why I was feeling a bit iffy about the score.

The whole reason was the Defense entirely. From first glance, they seemed to be working fine. All their formations and positions were okay, and they looked like they were putting their all into their play. And that was why I say 'looked'.

Call it a gut feeling, but I couldn't help but get the feeling that the defense could do so much better.

For example, I noticed that the quarterback of the Trojans, when in a pinch, usually liked to throw to one specific receiver. Sure, he managed to hide it, but when the plays got intense, his gaze would linger on the specific receiver before forcing himself to look for another. I would gladly stake my entire comic collection on that habit.

Yet, no one seemed to be thinking of taking advantage of it. Or maybe they just didn't notice yet? Either way, from the looks of things, Thomas or any of the other defensive players didn't look friendly, so I guess I'll have to wait until they start asking for any opinions.

After all, they probably been doing this defense thing longer than I have.

* * *

I hate to admit it, but maybe I should have talked to them. It was the last minutes of the game, and the energy was at its peak. We were leading 35 - 30, which would be great…

If it wasn't the Trojan's turn, and they weren't burning as much time as they could with only 45 seconds to go.

Our defense was fending them off, but they were slowly gaining yards, with them already at the 90 yard line. And I could already see that our defense was getting tired. As much as we were substituting people in and out, it was rapidly reaching the point we had nothing left to give.

And then…

Thomas tackled the ball carrier down with no yards gained, only to kneed in the head when someone failed to stop in time. Me and all the other Roosters held our breaths as Coach and the medical people checked on Thomas to make sure he was fine. Our relief was plain to see when they declared him alright and brought him to the bench to rest.

That fact alone made it alright that we currently had no one else to take on Thomas' position.

"We seriously have no one else?" Patrick asked as we looked around.

"Not really." Terrence shook his head. "Everyone left is either too tired or isn't that ready for defense."

Coach himself looked worried, having absolutely no clue what to do, the clock ticking down on the timeout. Meanwhile, I looked around, just as worried as well as confused. Seriously, did no one else catch the Trojans' QB's habit? No one else?

"Alright, here's what we're going to do-" "I can do it."

Everyone turned to look at me. I stared back at them until I realized that I had spoke. Part of me wanted to stay quiet, but I forced myself to talk.

"I can do it. I've been on the bench long enough. Besides, I've been looking at the other QB, and I think I got something we can use against him."

Coach looked at me with an raised eyebrow. "Lincoln, have you been Spying on the Quarterback?"

"If you mean paying attention to what he does, then yeah, I have. Either way, when he feels pressured, the Quarterback likes to throw to number 14 on their team. He won't do it if he sees someone's on him, but the moment the guy is clear and he starts sweating…"

Patrick looked at me worriedly and seriously. "Lincoln, how sure are you about that?"

I turned to Coach, state dead serious. "Coach, if I'm wrong about this, feel free to bench me permanently."

Everyone gasped at that.

"I don't think that will be necessary." Coach replied. "But if you're sure about this, then get out there."

The rest of the team nodded.

I nodded. "I won't let you down."

Finally, the timeout was over, and I put on my helmet as i ran out with the rest of the defense. I took a deep breath to calm myself. All I need to do is stop the other team for the next 45 seconds and we win. Don't do that and I'm benched for the rest of the season, or at the very least, everyone else is not going to let me go into the locker room.

No pressure.

As the other team huddled up on the other side, so did we.

"So...what's the plan?" One of the defense asked.

I really needed to learn everyone's names.

"Here's the plan, we have to make the other QB throw to Number 14. Line people, you have to push forward and keep doing it, make the box smaller and uncomfortable for the QB, make him think that if he doesn't act fast, he's gonna get sacked. Everyone's who marked a Running Back, get in them and box the QB further. Everyone who's got a wide receiver mark, keep on your marks, do not let them out of sights for a moment. But the guy who's marking Number 14, drive him into the endzone, and the moment he tries to get out of your range, let him. We have to make Number 14 the most appealing target. Everyone got it?"

One of the defenders spoke up.

"If this doesn't work, we're totally blaming you. Just so you know."

I nodded. "That's understandable. Alright, BREAK!"

With that, everyone got into position, linesman ready to collide with the other linesman, and the other defenders ready to land their marks. The Trojans stared ahead, hungry for points. I noticed that their formation was 'The Pro Set', with the receivers on the outskirts, ready to run out onto the field, and the Running backs were close by.

This could work.

"SET! HIKE!"

Just like that, our linesman crashed into their line like a tidal wave. Before the Running Backs could do anything, they noticed the other defense gunning for their QB and moved to intercept them. The wide receivers were the only ones that managed to get out into the field.

None of them noticed me around the center.

As the seconds passed, the offense line started faltering, slowly giving ground. The Trojans' QB looked around, looking like the walls were slowly closing in on him, all the while looking towards my left. Number 14 must be around there.

There, something happened.

The Running Back on the QB's right lost the fight, and one of my teammates charged right at him. The QB immediately reared his arm back, ready to throw to his left. His eyes were completely on Number 14.

He never noticed me.

I sprinted back, not enough time to confirm. Sprinting there, I noticed Number 14 looking slightly up, his chin slightly up. QB must have thrown in time.

His attention was off me.

Right in front of Number 14, I spun around and jumped, hands outstretched. The moment the ball smacked against my palms, my hands tightly grabbed it tightly, a steel trap refusing to let anything go. Idly, I wondered what I looked like to the other guy.

Landing back on my feet, I turned to the referee. I looked back at me. Then he blew his whistle as the fans of the Trojans loudly booed, mixed with the cheers from our own fans. The rest of the Roosters were cheering too, and I knew I had to do something with the ball.

Hold on…

Kneeling on the ground, I put the pointed part on the ground, before spinning it like a top. I pointed it out, and got a few laughs from the rest of the team. Then the referee came up to me.

"Alright, son, give back the ball. We still have time to run out."

"Really?" I asked. "I'm pretty sure we're just gonna run out the clock. Why waste time?"

"Because it's still part of the game. Come on, let's not keep people waiting."

"Alright." I handed the ball to the referee, before joining the rest of the defense, who greeted me with slaps on the back and absolute. The story was the same when we got back to the rest of the team.

"Good work, all of you. Especially you, Lincoln." Coach smiled. I smiled back as everyone and their mother wanted a piece of my hands or back.

As the offense re-entered the field, my back and hands were sore. But my grin was from ear to ear as I watched the offense get into a lazy formation before immediately standing up and shaking hands with the Trojans' defense. The warmest feeling fluttered in my chest.

Victory.


	10. Down 9 - Sunrise

Okay, I've been slowly turning back to longer chapters, like 4000 - 5000 words. Frankly, I'm a little worried that this story might go the way of the previous stories that I have done for previous fandoms, so that's why I've been trying to do that breakneck (least for me) pace of a chapter every four day. I mean, it worked pretty well, seven chapters in a month is a record, but it does ground you down.

Either way, let's go see how everyone reacted.

DreadedCandiru2 - Yeah, even if he doesn't show it, I think that part of Lincoln feels a little rattled by Lisa's deconstruction. After all, I'm pretty sure that a lot of people thought that Lincoln's reasoning to continue with Football at first was a little weak.

Asylum117 - Well, I'm pretty sure when your bony brother starts developing some muscle, you have to notice. And there are some that don't find themselves thrilled with the change, namely Lola, since she might have to get Lincoln's butler outfitted refitted.

ThatEngineer - That's gonna come sooner than later.

FrancisVamp0822 - Yeah, figured that since Lincoln wasn't going to get his physical specs up, he might as well find another way to play Football.

364wii - Lucky for Lincoln, I have no plans for romance in this fic.

Reallyoriginalname1 - Huh, that's cool. Though in retrospect, I could have also called them the Troy Horses.

Gamelover41592 - :D

DJTimmer - Do not fear, that question will be answered.

DarthWill3 - Frankly, I didn't write that Leni and Lincoln scene that way. I figured that no one took Leni aside to really explain how the betting pool works. But hearing what you said, allow this author to claim your interpretation as canon.

And as I said to DJTimmer, why the Defense have been acting poorly will be explained next chapter.

1 - Yeah, part of the reason why this chapter came out so late, besides the length, was because I was trying to figure how the game would go. I knew that I wanted Lincoln to have his victory, but I wanted it to come out like his play's success came because of his strategy rather than his physical capabilities.

Far as I see it, Lincoln's still pretty average physically, nothing special. But he is the Man with a Plan.

T - Yeah, I think of all the sports I've seen, Football can be pretty strategic (which forces me to work harder).

I will also confirm that that his guilt and hearing words from his coach and teammates are two of the reasons why he is choosing to continue in this sport. Third is that he does find it kinda fun.

As for that foreshadowing as to what could cause everyone become worried for him, that will come later.

With that said, next chapter!

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the Loud House.**

* * *

I woke up, but I didn't open my eyes yet.

Laying underneath my covers, I let myself listen to the beginning of the day. The tweeting of the few birds that were here before they would start flying south for the winter. The sound of the breeze as it started blowing through the trees as the leaves started to fall to the ground.

The sound of the 'Loud House' slowly waking up, with shouts, creaks, squeaks, rumbles and other such sounds that I cannot name. Come to think of it, didn't Mrs. Johnson teach about a word that describe background noise? What was it again? I know it started with an 'O'.

Ehh...Doesn't matter.

Throwing my covers off me, I sat up and got off my bed. Taking a deep breath, I began to stretch, hearing the pops and feeling the tension in my body disappear. After everything, I shook all my limbs and smiled.

"That's better."

Opening the door, I started to walk down the stairs. As another jaw-breaking yawn erupted from my mouth, I stopped for a bit, also falling over. Closing my mouth, I smacked my lips together as I rubbed my back, making my pajama shirt ride up. Making it to the bottom of the stairs, I walked into the dining room.

"Morning." I greeted.

"Lincoln Loud."

Immediately, the tone of Dad's voice made me want to go right back to bed. Dad turned around in his chair to face me. Everyone else, who had been around the kitchen, getting their plates and forks for breakfast froze in place, utterly gobsmacked. I could see Lola mouthing words at me.

What did you did do? I stopped myself from shrugging, forcing myself to look eye to eye with Dad.

"Yeah, what is it, Dad?"

"So...You thought you could hide it, did you?"

"Hide what?" Oh no, please don't tell me that Mom and Dad had found my stash of manga that I am very embarrassed. Calm down, Lincoln. Be cool. Tell them you just read them for the plot…

It was at that moment Dad grinned as he picked up the paper and flipped to a specific page. "You didn't tell me that my son is a FOOTBALL STAR!"

With that, he practically shoved the paper right in my face. I grabbed it from his hands and was about to take a look. Not even a moment passed before I was swamped with all my other sisters trying to see what Dad was talking about.

"WHAT IS DAD TALKING ABOUT?!"

"DOWN IN FRONT!"

"I CAN'T SEE!"

I felt the paper being tugged on in nine different ways, and I knew it wasn't long before my sisters would rip it into shreds. So I did what came naturally, the first thing that popped into my head.

"HEY! QUIT IT!"

I looked around, seeing my sisters rubbing their ears.

"Geez, bro." Luna joked as she smacked her ear. "Got some lungs, huh?"

"Listen." I said. "Just wait. Let me read this first, okay? Let the 'Football Star' read what the newspaper says about him and his team."

Huh, when did I start referring to the Roosters as my team, I thought to myself as I cleared my throat, looking through the article and its eye catching title.

' _Roosters Triumph Over Trojans: Loud Shuts Down Comeback.'_

' _On Saturday, the Royal Woods Roosters won their game vs the Troy Trojans, 35 to 30._

' _The notable players on the Roosters were the usual suspects, with one being more unusual.'_

' _Terrence Patterson, #01, threw for 300 yards and scored 2 touchdown passes. Patrick Connolly, #08, ran for 340 yards and scored the other 2 touchdowns. However, the third notable performance came from an unusual source.'_

' _Looking back, Lincoln Loud, #21, had tripped at the 40 yard line at the kickoff of the first game, before proceeding to disappear for the majority of the game. This game, Loud went for 150 passing yards in the first quarter as one of the wide receivers. It would be in the fourth quarter, that Loud would make the play that would mark him, in this reporter's eyes, as the MVP of the game.'_

' _Before the final play, Rooster's Cornerback, Thomas Ford, #12, had been kicked in the helmet accidently by one of the Trojans' players. Though he has now been medically cleared, Thomas had to be withdrawn from the game. At this point, Coach Johnson had no one to reliably substitute for Thomas' position._

'" _I admit that I have made a mistake in my coaching, having spent too much time teaching the Roosters on Offense." Coach Johnson commented.'"_

' _It was at this point that Loud stepped up and volunteered to replace Ford. Admittedly, as this reporter watched Loud run into the field with the rest of the defense, I was unsure of his ability to perform. And judging from the Roosters' fans that had come to this game, they shared my sentiments.'_

' _Loud, thankfully, proved us wrong.'_

' _Gathering all the Roosters' defense, he planned something out and sent everyone into position. A hike later, and whatever Loud planned was executed to perfection. The Roosters' line continuously pushed against the Trojans' line, both of the Trojans' Running Backs had to hold back two of the Roosters from sacking the QB, and all the rest of the Roosters might as well have been stuck to their marks like glue.'_

' _And all the while, Loud stood in the same spot, hunched over as if he wanted no one to see him.'_

' _Then, one of the Roosters, Paul King, #35, passed the Running Back and was about to sack the QB at the same time that one of the Trojans' Receivers managed to get away from his mark and open himself up for a touchdown pass. The QB was about ready to throw. I honestly thought that was it. The Roosters' Offense had been gassed, and as much as I wanted it, I knew that Coach Johnson would not let Connolly run again.'_

' _Then Loud moved.'_

' _Coming out from the center, he ran all the way to the receiver, jumped in front of him, and intercepted the ball. As I watched all of this happened, I couldn't help but think.'_

' _All according to plan.'_

"So you placed your opponent in a seemingly unwinnable position, showed him a sliver of hope, before extinguishing it in front of him? ...Wicked."

"Dang Bro, you totally played him, huh?"

"Considering the rate that a normal human being can improve their own physical capabilities and show visible improvement around a month, I will say that it would be expected of you to rely on your considerable planning skills more."

There was more from the article, but I stopped paying attention to the words as soon as I saw the picture near the words. On top of the article, there was a picture of Patrick running past one of the defenders. But the picture that was in the middle of the words, it was of me intercepting the ball, practically overshadowing the receiver behind me.

And I could barely recognize myself.

Like, the person had my body, 21 on his jersey, and everything about the general idea about me looked about right. But it was the eyes that captured me. They were so focused, so serious, they clearly belonged to someone else. But it was me.

I was so going to scrap book this.

"Mom, where do we keep the scrapbooks?" I asked.

"HEY! WE DIDN'T GET A CHANCE TO LOOK YET!" Lana complained. I could already sense that Lana's complaint was going to trigger another mad dash for the paper.

"Hey, let me cut out my picture first. I am totally going to scrapbook it."

"Oh man…" Dad groaned, before a look from Mom made him stop.

"I'm pretty sure they're in the same place they usually are, Lincoln."

"Okay, Mom." I said as I walked out of the kitchen. Going into the living room, I found the drawer that Mom usually kept the scrapbooks and scrapbooking material. Getting out one of the scrapbooks and some scissors, I closed the drawer and turned around just to see Lynn smirking at me.

"GAH!" I stopped myself from dropping everything in my arms. "O-oh, hey Lynn."

"Well, well, well…" Lynn said as she plucked the paper from my arms and looked at the picture. "Look at you, the big sports star."

"Uh...Thanks?"

Oh no, how was Lynn going to react to this? Is she going to get mad? Is she going to challenge me for the title? Is she going to make me learn more of her good luck rituals? DEAR GOD, I DON'T WANT ANOTHER TWO HOUR BATHROOM SESSION! I DON'T THINK I CAN TAKE IT!

Instead, Lynn grinned, put the paper aside, and got me into a headlock and gave a me a noogie. "What, are you holding back on me? You should have told me that you could do stuff like that!"

"HEY!" I protested, my hair getting more messed up and my scalp feeling like Lynn was rubbing it with a rock. "I didn't know either."

Finally, Lynn stopped nooging me and stopped the headlock, only to grasp me by the arms and look at me like I was someone new.

"Well, I guess that's two of us." Lynn smiled. "Hey, you remember the time that we promised that when I heal up, I would take your place on the football team?"

I blinked, before looking down at Lynn's foot. Only now did I realize that her foot no longer had a cast on it. "Huh...Guess I was really out of it to miss that?"

Lynn nodded. "You practically collapsed on the couch and slept like a log."

I smiled, though it wasn't as big. A promise was a promise, and I did get Lynn injured. She probably had to miss out on practices and games just because I was being a wimp.

So why did it feel so hard to accept that it was time to pay my debt?

"Either way, I figure that you don't need me to switch in for you. Is that alright?"

A weight practically fell off my shoulders as I resisted the urge to sigh in relief. "That's...cool. Just what's the catch?"

"The catch is that we play football anytime we're free…"

Okay, that was doable. Might put some squeeze on my free time, but I could do that.

"And you do some more of my good luck things. Right now, you're only doing the number two thing, which is great for a starter. So imagine what could happen if you do two, or three. OH, maybe even ten! YOU'LL BE UNSTOPPABLE."

Oh no. Oh no nononononononononono.

"I-I don't know… I mean, I don't want to intrude…"

"Nonsense! We're going to make you the best peewee football player in all of Michigan. I promise you won't regret it!"

Too late for that.

"But you already got things to do, huh? Go ahead and cut out that picture of yours. Me and everyone else will be waiting at the table to hear about your story." With that, Lynn walked out of the room to join everyone else.

Getting the scissors, I started to cut out the picture, taking care to make each cut nice and even without cutting into the picture itself. Once the picture was cut out of the newspaper, I put inside the scrapbook. Looking between tape or glue, I wondered for a moment before deciding to ask for Mom's help after breakfast.

Putting everything away, and getting up to go back into the dining room, I started to think of what I was going to tell everyone at the table. It was then that another thought occurred. This was on the news, which had been given to possibly everyone in town.

Wonder what's going to happen at School tomorrow?

* * *

"Dude, there he is!"

"That's Lincoln? He looked so different on the paper."

"I didn't even know he played football."

"Now that you mention it, his arms do look a bit different."

"If he plays football, no wonder he doesn't look like a wimp."

The moment that I entered School, the talking around me turned to whispers as everyone looked at me out of the corner of their eye. It felt weird. Even though I was surrounded by people on either side of the hallway, I felt like they were far away from me, or maybe if it was them that were far away from me.

Trying to not let it get to me, I continued to walk down the hallway until I reached my locker. Unlocking it, I looked for the books that I needed until I heard footsteps racing towards me. Already expecting them, I turned around to face them.

"Hey, guys." I greeted Clyde, Rusty, Liam and Zach as they stopped in front of me. "How was your weekend?"

"DUDE!" Clyde breathed wordlessly. "How was yours?"

Zach got out his backpack and pulled out a piece of newspaper, showing it to be my picture.

"Thanks, dude, but I already got my picture scrapbooked, but thanks man."

"Dude…" Rusty blinked. "Who are you and when did you become a Football star?"

"No offense, but I don't getting an interception at the end of the game, no matter how game-winning it is, makes me a football star."

Clyde, Rusty, Liam and Zach looked between each other.

"So...Why Number 14?" Liam asked. Noticing everyone was looking at him, he shrugged. "My folks happen to follow the Roosters."

I leaned against my locker. "On the sidelines, I noticed that the QB on the other team liked to pass to #14. Sure, he would pass to other people, but in a pinch or even when he threw to other people, he would always have his eye on that guy. So I figured that I would create a situation where throwing to #14 would seem like the best idea and that he should take it with no question asked… Of course, I bet that probably won't work on him a second time, at least the same thing. If he does, well…"

I stopped myself when I realized that I was now entering 'over thinking' territory, and judging from the expression on everyone's face, they were looking a bit weirded out.

"Uhh… Okay." Clyde said.

"So...We're gonna to have another home game in about two weeks." I began to rub the back of my head. "If you want, you could come. I mean, it would be pretty cool."

"Sure, dude. I think I got nothing to do on that day." Clyde said as looking like he was thinking about it.

After Clyde, everyone else started to give their own answers, nodding or saying yes. I couldn't help but start to feel a little good about that. Then I saw someone else running towards me only to slide to a stop.

"Hey, dude, have you seen the news?" Patrick asked as he held out the newspaper, only to realize that Zach was still holding his own copy.

"Yeah… I have already. But you know, enough about that, what did you guys get for number one on the math homework Mrs. Johnson assigned?"

"Wait." Everyone turned to look at Patrick, who had turned bone white. "We had homework?"

"Yeah…" Clyde responded, raising an eyebrow. "She assigned it to us last friday."

I nodded. "I had to spend the rest of my sunday working on it."

Patrick looked between all of us, before putting the newspaper clipping inside his backpack and digging around inside of it before pulling out the worksheet.

The blank worksheet.

"...You think any of you guys could let me look at your answers real quickly? I can make it worth your while. I can run all your errands for you…like, literally."

I shook my head. "Sorry, Patrick. Mrs. Johnson wanted us to also show the work too, and I doubt you're fast enough to make it look like your own work in ten minutes."

"Aww, man…" Patrick groaned as he hung his head. "My dad is going to kill me."

"Well…" I tried to think of something that could cheer up Patrick as everyone started walking toward Mrs. Johnson's room. Geez, Patrick was even walking like he was a condemned person walking towards the gallows. Come on, Lincoln, think of something to say.

"If you want, I can give you some tips on time management, could save you some more time."

Patrick looked at me before nodding. "Sure, I could probably use that. Thanks, man."

I patted him on the shoulder. "Well, you taught me how to sprint better, so I might as well pay the favor back."

Patrick smiled before looking back. Just as I looked forward, I couldn't help but feel like there was someone staring at me. I looked back, only seeing Clyde staring ahead.

I shrugged and looked forward. I wonder what Coach had in mind when he said that he was going to work on improving the Defense.

* * *

The sound of talking and shutting lockers greeted me and Patrick as we entered into the locker room. Patrick disappeared into the crowd, with me going through the crowd to search for my own locker. Yeah, Coach decided to assign us our own lockers, said something about how people putting their stuff into other people's lockers and mixing everyone's stuff.

Finding my own locker, I put my stuff inside and started to change when I felt someone coming close. Turning around, I saw who it was and put on my pants before looking back. "Something you need, Thomas?"

Thomas nodded. "I just wanted to say thanks for taking over when I was gone. That's all."

"...Okay then." I said, unsure of what else to say. "So… You wondering what Coach's got planned for today?"

"...Not really." With that, Thomas left. I blinked before finishing putting on my gear and getting out of the locker room with everyone else. Running out, I knelt down with the rest of the team as Coach Johnson came out and looked over the entire team.

"Team, last game was good. But it could be better. For the past three games, it has been close every time. Starting today, we should not be focusing on matching the scores, but crushing them. Let's warm up first before we get into practice."

"YES COACH!"

Putting my helmet, I dove into the warm-ups, keeping an eye out for the Coach as I did my exercises, feeling my body warm up. All the while, I could feel Coach looking at me from time to time. What was he planning?"

"ALRIGHT, BRING IT IN!"

Once everyone gathered, he spoke again.

"Listen, today and on any other day, we will have a practice match, between the offense and the defense. We will play for half a quarter and start always at the end zone after each scoring. The objective for the offense is to get 12 points, so that could mean two touchdowns, 4 kicks, or a touchdown and a kick. Meanwhile, the defense must stop the offense from getting those points. Whoever loses, gets TWENTY laps added to their end run. Understand?"

"YES COACH!"

"Alright, you get five minutes. Come together with your teammates and decide what you're going to do."

I stood up and started walking towards where the Offense were gathering, when a voice rang out.

"Lincoln, can I talk to you?"

Suddenly, a sense of doom came over me. "Yeah, Coach?"

Coach stared at me for a moment, before speaking. "Lincoln, I won't sugarcoat this. I'm putting you on Defense.

What?

"I won't deny that you did a great job as a wide receiver, you will be a second string. However, I feel like you would be better in the defense. I saw what you did last game, and I think you have potential there. Do you understand?"

...I guess.

"I guess."

"Alright, give a good showing out there." With that, Coach Johnson left me.

As I walked over to where the Defense was, I tried to figure out what I was feeling. I should have been feeling sad that Coach decided to put him in defense, away from the position that I had been working towards. But I didn't. I didn't feel sad, or mad, or frustrated.

I just...accepted it.

"Okay," I said as I got into the huddle, briefly registering other people talking. "So what's the plan?"

"...What are you doing here?" Thomas asked, apparently the leader of the Defense.

"What does it look like?" I responded. "Coach assigned me to Defense."

"Oh… Sorry to hear that."

I raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?"

"That you got demoted."

I looked at Thomas weirdly before looking around the group. All of them had the same look of pity.

"Okay...So what's the plan?"

"There is no plan. What's the point? Offense is gonna roll over us. Might as well just save our energy."

I stared at everyone as they agreed with Thomas.

"...So that's it? You're not even going to try?"

Thomas glared at me.

"Don't tell me you have short term memory loss, Offense. You saw what they have on that team. We don't have a chance."

Weird, I couldn't help but feel like there was a ton of meaning behind how Thomas said Offense. He said it mockingly, and yet there was also… envy. Wait…

"Wait a minute, are you telling me that the reason you guys have been doing lukewarm… is because you guys wanted to be offense?"

Thomas shrugged. "Everyone knows that Offense is where the cool stuff is. Defense is just being a wall."

Everyone agreed with Thomas. Me on the other hand, I started to feel something inside my chest.

"So that's it. You didn't get to be part of Offense, so you're just going to do the bare minimum on defense."

Thomas looked at me. "What, you got something to say, something about we got a chance to beat the Offense if only we believe in ourselves? Alright, let's hear your big speech, Offense."

Boiling, boiling, boiling…

"You know, it's funny." I said after thinking it over. "I actually didn't want to play football. My mom signed me up because she thought that I spent too much time reading comic books. I hated it, I hated it so much that I even messed up that first game kick off on purpose."

Everyone around me looked at each other.

"What?" Thomas blinked.

"Yeah, I messed up that kick off on purpose. I made one string of my shoe longer so I could step on it and tripped myself up. I probably could have taken that ball all the way to the end zone."

I noticed that everyone around looked a little mad.

"Now I know what you're saying. 'Lincoln, how could you?' 'Why would you do that, Lincoln?' 'Even if you didn't like it, you're still part of the team!' Did I get that right? Well then, let me ask you guys something?"

I looked around, feeling the boiling inside me get to its point.

"WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!"

Everyone leaned back, looking surprised.

"So you didn't get the position you wanted? Well, sometimes you don't get the thing you wanted! THAT'S LIFE! But that doesn't mean that you sit around, complaining about how it stinks and how you wish it was different AND THINKING THAT IT GIVES YOU AN EXCUSE TO BE A JERK ABOUT IT! IT MEANS THAT YOU MAKE THE BEST OF IT, DO SOMETHING WITH IT! And that's what we're doing. We have a chance right now, to be serious about something."

I pointed over at the Offense.

"Right now, it must look like it's impossible. They got good players, and they got Patrick. But you know what? IT DOESN'T MATTER. It doesn't matter how strong or fast or smart the other team is. Either way, we stop them. That's our job. So let me ask again… Do we have a plan?"

I looked around. Majority of the Defense looked unsure. Some looked ashamed.

"Frankly…" Thomas admitted. "I don't see a way we can win. Do you?"

I took a deep breath. I have to admit, this was looking impossible. The Offense were good. Terrence is good. And Patrick… If we can't stop him, he will be the sole reason why the Offense will steamroll us.

And yet… There was part of me that felt...excited.


	11. Down 10 - Run

Well, I feel like this one could have been better so go ahead and tell me what could been better.

Otherwise, reader responses...GO.

That Engineer: Here, here.

Gamelover41592: What's Snake Formation? Also, yeah, I feel like part of Lincoln's development is knowing how physically inferior he is in comparison with his teammates, and I doubt that gives him any reason to get a swelled head.

DreadedCandiru2: Well, he can always do better.

364wii: I doubt Canon!Lincoln is that bad.

DarthWill3: Yeah, sorry. Like I said, already juggling way too many relationships to meaningfully give any worthwhile scenes to Ronnie. Also, yeah, the article could have been better.

Gundamvid: To watch your enemies dash themselves like waves upon the jagged rocks like always give that nice 'All according to Keikaku*' feeling.

*Keikaku means Plan in Japanese.

Guest: I get what you're saying, but do remember that this story is from Lincoln's perspective and he probably overblown some of the things he's done. Sure, he 'did' the exercises, if doing them half-well or for like 2 minutes counts.

DJTimmer: Well, you'll get your answer this chapter.

Agui972: Same answer as above.

Asylum117: Lincoln and Clyde's friendship… _

T: Like I said, we'll see.

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Loud House.**

* * *

"What's the plan?" I said as I thought about it, and looked the part too. I could already tell that the other members looked a little peeved that I didn't actually have any real ideas after that little speech of mine. Seriously, where did that come from?

"Alright, here's what I got. If they bring out Patrick early, then we can't let him get out into the field. The moment he leaves our range, we might as well give the Offense the touchdown. So if the Offense gives him the ball, everyone that's not on the line has to go and block all the running routes that Patrick can take. Fastest runner on the field doesn't mean anything if you can't run anywhere."

There was that plan for Patrick, but there was still the other offense to consider. Even if they didn't decide to bring out Patrick for whatever reason, that didn't mean that we could relax. Terrence, Matt, and the other Receivers and Running Backs were still good, especially against a group of barely motivated Defense.

"As for the other offense, pay close attention to the line. If they try to push out, they're gonna try to open something up for Patrick to run. If they're holding in place, they're gonna go for a throw. Either way, if you see that Terrence is open for a sack, go for it."

"Wait...So what are you going to do?" Thomas asked.

"Gonna focus on Terrence. Everything he does, everywhere he goes. No matter, I'm gonna be on me like a bad smell on a dirty diaper."

Gross...Why did I say it like that? There had to be a better way to say what I meant.

"Besides, I doubt you would want me on the line. No matter how strong I got over the past few weeks, there is no way that I can hold the line."

Thomas looked at me and felt my bicep before nodding. "Yeah, I guess you do you."

Just as that happened, the whistle blew. I took a deep breath, before putting on my helmet. It's showtime, day one of being Defense. I really do hope that my words got through to the others, because I do not look forward to playing with a bunch of quitters.

As we met at the 0 yard line, 11 of us meeting their eleven, I noticed someone missing. I checked, then double checked, only to see that it was somehow true. The Offense didn't have Patrick on the sidelines. Noticing me, Patrick simply shrugged.

Looking back, I stared at Terrence, who was just getting into position. What was he planning, or really, what was he thinking? If I was him, I would definitely put Patrick on the starting lineup , make the other team sweat. Heck, they probably would even have tunnel vision on Patrick only, completely focusing on him and giving everyone else a chance to work.

Then Terrence looked up at me.

I didn't understand, what was Terrence's plan? Did he know something about this exercise I didn't? I wouldn't put it past him, he's been on this team a lot longer than I have, so he probably knows how Coach operates…

Gah, what am I doing? Can't rely on possible what-ifs. Gotta treat this like Coach meant every single word.

"Great." One of the other defense came up to me. "They don't have Patrick on the field. That's a bit easier."

I shook my head. "Yeah, but Terrence and the others are still on the field, and from what I could see, majority of them have been on this team longer than we have."

Looking at the faces and the numbers, I remembered how they all looked to be part of the same age that Terrence was. Not to mention there was something about the way they stood and talked compared to the Defense. While the Defense were at their positions, they were shifting, clearly impatient and ready to play their respective roles and only them, just staring at their targets. Meanwhile, a majority of the Offense players were still, taking in everything around them.

We had essentially a team of newbies vs a team of veterans, and we have to stop them from getting 12 points in seven and a half minutes. This just got a lot harder.

"Oh yes, before I forget, each team has three timeouts. Also, if the defense manages to intercept or make the Offense only advance 19 yards or lower in 4 downs, then the Offense will start back at the zero yard line. That said…"

Everyone stilled. I looked around. The Defense were in our 4-3 defense, with four linebackers in front, two linebackers slightly backed up, two cornerbacks on the sides ready to intercept any receivers, and two safeties in the back with me in the middle with my eye trained on the Quarterback. The Offense, meanwhile, had gotten into the T formation, with their linebackers in front with Terrence right behind the center linebacker with Matt and two others right behind the Quarterback.

At that moment, Coach blew the whistle, and everyone exploded into action. The Linebackers collided with each other as Terrence backed away with the ball. A moment later, the quarterback handed it off to one of the others, who immediately ran with the ball to their left with Matt and the other person acting as blockers.

Me and the other safeties saw this and ran over. The cornerback on that side blocked Matt, leaving us to deal with the ball carrier and the other blocker. As the safety stopped the other blocker, the ball carrier tried to go around the two, only to run into me.

Gritting my teeth, I forced the guy down onto the ground. I looked around. Stopped them around the 8 yard mark.

At that rate, they'll be within kicking range of the goal in about 10 downs, and assuming that each down has about 10 seconds of playtime, they will have spent about a minute and 40 seconds just for one kick. Then again, can't assume that will always be the case. Still, as long as the Offense and Terrence feel like they're making progress, they won't decide to bring out Patrick. Patrick is just insurance.

Helping the guy up, I nodded to him as we both made our way back to our starting positions. I saw that the Offense got back into the T formation. Then as the action started up again, with the ball carrier and the other two this time going towards the other side. We stopped them there, still only giving them eight yards.

Then the Offense did this play again, then again, then again…

"Man, Terrence must be so scared of you he's only sticking to a run game!" One of the defense players said to me as he passed me by as we set up on the 40 yard line.

As we got back into position, I caught a sight of Terrence looking back at me. Is what the other guy said right? Is Terrence that scared of me intercepting the ball?

Looking around, I saw that the rest of the Defense were smirking, patting each other on the back… and slightly forward. The defense was already eager to defend the next run.

The Offense were back in their T formation, but I could tell that there was something different about it.

"HEY! DON'T GET COCKY!" I shouted to everyone else, only for no one to listen to me. Figures.

The whistle blew and I realized what was different as I pretended to put my full attention to the side and moved forward. Matt had been on the other side, and quickly ran over. The Defense didn't notice or care as they charged the ball carrier and his blocker.

Terrence clearly had something behind his back.

Seeing brown in his hands, I turned around, making a beeline for Matt. Just as I jumped in front of him with my hands outstretched, the ball landed right in them. Landing down, I took a deep breath.

They almost got me too with that one.

"Not bad, Loud." Matt said as he jogged back.

Wait, why he is so calm? I just ruined the past minute and half of progress they just did. Something was seriously up. Jogging back to the zero yard line, I caught a glimpse of Terrence looking at me.

He was looking at me like someone would when I impressed them with one of my chess moves in the park.

Heh, when you thought about it, Chess is kinda like Football. There are pieces or people with defined abilities on the board, they usually move a certain way, and you have to use them in a unified way if you want to win. Sure, you can't outright control the pieces, there are no turns, and you're trying to put the ball at the end zone rather than trying to capture the King.

But hey, from all the sports I have seen Lynn play, Football was probably the one with the most seeable strategy.

As I huddled with the others to discuss what to do, the others were looking at me with some apprehension. Why were they… Oh yeah.

"Like I said, don't get cocky. Anyways, let's go ahead and keep our formation."

"Wait a minute, shouldn't we change our formation?" One of the other defense asked. I looked at his jersey. Number 45. I really need to learn everyone's name. "I mean, won't the Offense eventually get used to that formation?"

I shook my head. "Maybe, but we are in the most generalized defense formation. We have people to hit the line, and we have people to guard against a pass or a run. And right now, even if the Offense is doing nothing but runs, they could try to pull a fast one on us. You guys are doing pretty good, let's keep up the pressure. Just remember; don't get cocky, watch out for anything, and don't assume that it's not your problem, because as long as you're on this team, it is."

"Alright." "Okay." "Got it." A few people of the group said as they went to get into their positions, a little filled with appreciation. As I got back into my own position, I saw Thomas looking back at me. He nodded at me before looking back forward. Looks like I'm starting to get the other Defense players to like me. Maybe this won't be that much of a chore after all.

Then I looked back at the Offense, and more importantly, the formation they were now using. It looked like the T formation, only this time, two of the three people behind Terrence were slightly farther back. Looked like they switched from the T formation to the Wishbone formation, which is a good choice if you want to do a triple option offense more easily, where you could either hand it to someone near you, pitch it to someone running on the outside, or even run the ball yourself.

Alright, we game now, Terrence?

* * *

As the Defense got back into position for the next round, I took a look behind us at the goalpost that was behind us. Right now, the Offense managed to take us to the 20 yard line, more than enough for them to make the kick. But the question remained, was that going to be what they were planning to do?

You had to give credit to the Offense. From what I've seen, they were a true jack of trades. Compared to everyone else, they may not be a master of a single play, but they knew enough. They were really using the Triple Offense to their full advantage, leaving the Defense, and me, guessing every step of the way. Sometimes we guessed right, and sometimes we guess wrong, and that's how we got to this point.

My brain was definitely asking me to just take a nap when we get home.

So I believe I could be forgiven for thinking that Terrence might not actually take the kick.

Taking a look at the Offense formation, two of the Offense were back with one kneeling while the rest were on the line. Though, I couldn't see Terrence. How did I manage to lose him.

The others set up to try to counter the kick, while I stood a bit farther around the center to try to get a better vantage point.

The whistle blew. The center Linesman of the Offense passed the ball to the kneeling player. The guy caught it and brought it down, keeping it on its point. The player behind ran forward, bringing his foot back as he got ready to kick it…

Only for the setter to pull the ball away at the last minute as the kicker passed by.

I started looking around. They went and threw away the kick. What was their plan, their strategy?

Then the kicker blocked for someone that came out of the line. The setter spotted the person coming out of the line and threw towards them. The person caught the ball handily, allowing me to see the jersey number.

#1? What was Terrence doing on the line? Wait, he managed to cross the line, got to intercept him.

Still have some room before he passes me by. Gotta stop him. Quickly calculating where we would meet, I sprinted over. Colliding in three...two...one…

He passed me. HE PASSED ME! I tried to quickly change my direction.

Someone might as well have stuck a stick in between my legs, or gave my leg the memo that they don't work like I wanted them to work at that moment. Either way, I ended up falling to the ground, staring up at the sky. Rolling back onto my stomach, I could only watch as Terrence ran into the end zone. Dang it, that's one touchdown, and they got it in 4 and a half minutes.

I looked down at my legs, before slowly bending my knees and flexing my feet. Okay, my legs are fine. I just tripped. I just tripped… while sprinting...and trying to make a sharp turn…

...I tried to make a sharp turn while I was sprinting...Just like Patrick taught me...the way he ran…

Could it be?

"LINCOLN! You alright?" I looked up to see Terrence looking down at me. I nodded.

"Yeah, just tripped. Totally fine." Terrence nodded before holding his hand. Grabbing it, I pulled myself up.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

With that, me and Terrence ran over to our groups. Everyone's eyes were on me as I joined them. I sighed as I rubbed the back of my neck.

"Sorry, guys. He got past me."

Everyone looked at each other, before someone spoke out.

"It's fine." Thomas said. "We didn't see it coming either. Still, anything different you want to do now that the Offense got their first touchdown?"

"Well…"

"OH CRUD!" One of the Defense shouted out. Seeing he was looking at the Offense, I turned to take a look as well as the others. While the Defense started gasping, I simply stared.

Patrick was now in the Offense's huddle. And just like that, the people around me started to panic.

"Well, we're done."

"GAME OVER, GAME OVER!"

"Why didn't he just put Patrick on the team in the first place anyway?!"

"Guys, calm down."

Everyone turned back to look at me.

"Hello, are you there, Loud?! Are you blind?! THEY GOT PATRICK NOW! We're done."

"No, we're not."

Thomas spoke up. "No way… Don't tell me. You actually thought of a way to stop Patrick?"

The silence that came after was so thick, I could have cut it with a knife.

"Well...It's more of a hunch, really."

Everyone looked at each other, uncertainty shining in their eyes. Yet, I could also it slowly dawning among them, slowly and tentatively, like trying to get Charles to try some new dog food that we got him.

They were daring to hope.

"Okay, Loud, what do you have planned?"

"Okay, do what we do normally. 4-3, but the safeties should get ready to assist the cornerbacks. Let's assume that Patrick is going to get some help. If you guys do get Patrick in front of you, and he looks like he's going to turn, turn into his space. Understand?"

Everyone nodded.

"Okay, we got 3 more minutes! LET'S MAKE THEM WORK FOR IT!"

The defense shouted in response, before we all got into positions. As I stared at the Offense formation, they got back into the T formation, Patrick on the right hand side of Terrence. Patrick gave me a small wave before returning back to his serious face. I took a deep breath as I readied myself for the whistle.

When I thought about it, hunch was the right word. Sure, I just realized the flaw in Patrick's style, but there was no way that Patrick himself didn't know it as well and worked to cover it. It was a hunch, a longshot, but it wasn't like I had a choice.

No matter how far I had come physically since the first day I came here, I knew that I couldn't compare to Patrick. So...If I can't compete with him on a physical level, then I just got to compete with him the only way I know how!

TWEET!

BEING THE MAN WITH THE PLAN!

Terrence handed the ball to Patrick. Patrick ran ahead with a blocker ahead of him. The blocker took care of the cornerback. Patrick ran by.

I started running over as Patrick approached the safety. Patrick started to slow down, trying to make a turn. The Safety stepped forward, making Patrick slow down further. He stopped just short of the safety. Safety can't tackle him.

I CAN!

A wordless roar ripped through my lips as Patrick turned his head. His widening eyes were all I saw before I slammed into him, feeling my body collide with his safety gear. We both tumbled to the ground, with me rolling on the ground before I stopped with my back on the ground.

Silence.

Everyone was staring at us.

I looked at Patrick. He was still holding the ball in his hands, but with a white knuckle grip. Soon he relaxed before he looked over at me.

He grimaced. "Dang it."

I nodded. "Found the flaw."

He sighed. "I know."

"HOLY CRUD! LOUD STOPPED PATRICK!"

Like the sound of a starting gun, my view of the sky was suddenly dominated with the faces of the Defense. So many hands reached down and pulled me up, smacking me on the back to my helmet. They were all around me, so many faces and smiles I barely knew up from down.

"Okay, OKAY! Okay…" Hearing me, everyone calmed down and I took the chance to breathe. Now I know what a pizza feels after we're done with it.

"HOLY… You actually did it! You ACTUALLY DID IT!"

I nodded. "Yeah, I know. Barely can believe it myself. But we're not done yet. We still got another 2 minutes and 40 seconds to go!"

Everyone nodded. At that moment, I couldn't help myself.

"But what did I tell you? WHAT DID I TELL YOU?!"

"YEAH!" Everyone shouted before going off to their positions. Thomas was left, standing there.

"Thomas, something you need?"

Thomas stared at me for a moment before patting me on the shoulder before walking away. I noticed that his head was slightly down. Or was it? I couldn't tell from the back.

Either way, I had to get ready for the next down. Even if I managed to stop Patrick this time, Patrick knew that I had the ability to stop him. As I entered into my position, I took a look at the Offense and stopped myself from sighing.

They decided to field Patrick again. Okay, we can do this again.

Everything stood still for a moment. I stared at Patrick. He stared back at me.

TWEET!

Patrick ran. I followed after. The cornerback and safety on that side prepared themselves to meet Patrick. Patrick stopped in front of the cornerback, who moved forward-

Wait, Patrick stopped in front of the cornerback himself? Where was his blocker? I took a second look and my blood practically became ice water.

Patrick didn't have any blockers.

I looked back at Terrence. He still had the ball. He didn't pass it to Patrick.

Was he waiting for this moment, when I took my eye off him?

Quickly looking around, I saw that Matt crossed the line and was running towards the goal. He had a head start before me. There… there was no way I could make it.

I changed directions quickly and forced my legs to run with everything they had. Slowly, I started closing the distance. But how? What was taking Terrence so long to throw the ball?

I looked back. One of the defenders managed to break through the line and tried to sack Terrence. Terrence managed to avoid the defender but he had to dance out of the way. I tried to look at the jersey number, before giving up.

Now's NOT THE TIME!

Forcing my legs to go faster, I watch Matt's back get closer and closer, before he turned his head. In his eyes, I saw the ball get closer and closer. I knew that there was no way I was going to catch Matt in time before he crosses into the end zone.

Have to take a chance.

Watching the ball in Matt's eyes, I waited...waited…

NOW!

Putting all my power into my legs, I jumped as high as I could, reaching as high as I could with my hands cupped. I flew through the air, hanging there. Come on...

All I felt was the ball scrapping the tips of my fingers as gravity pulled me back down. A moment after my feet touched ground, I lost my balance and fell forward. I reached for Matt one more time before my face met the ground again.

Rolling on the ground, I quickly flipped over in time to see Matt run into the end zone and Coach's whistle.

...We lost.

We lost.

I slammed a fist down on the ground.

Dang it.

DANG IT!

I felt a few tears start to prick through my eyes before furiously wiping them away. Standing up, I closed my eyes before breathing through my nose and blowing out my mouth. I repeated this process for a few moments, before calming down enough.

"You alright?" Thomas asked as he came near. I weighed all the options I had to say.

"...Yeah. Sorry, dude. I messed up."

Thomas looked at me before removing his helmet and rubbing his face, smearing his sweat all over his face. "...It's fine, Loud. You did the most out of all of us. We can't ask anymore."

I nodded to him before we both walked over to the huddle and kneeled with everyone else. A few more members of the Defense patted me on the back. I nodded to them but paid full attention to Coach as he started to talk.

"Alright, let me go ahead and say that both teams, both of you, were great out there. You both played your hardest, and you played some mighty fine football as well. Still, Defense, you lost…"

Here it comes.

"So feel free to do one more lap when you're doing today's cooldown laps."

Me and the rest of the Defense looked at each other. Was Coach serious? Did he really mean that? I thought he was actually serious about that.

"Yeah, as long as you play hard and look like you're trying to improve, Coach won't make you do that ten more lap thing. That's only for people that don't actually try."

Me and Thomas looked over at Matt, who looked over and smiled. "Why else do you think that Terrence didn't put Patrick out until now?"

...That made sense.

Coach clapped his hands together. "That said, practice ain't over yet! Everyone take a water break, then we get back to work, got it?!"

"YES COACH!"

* * *

"Alright, everyone take a knee!"

After everyone did their cooldown laps, everyone knelt down in front of Coach.

"Like I said, great work today. Just so you know, we will be working on some defensive formations next week. For both groups, I expect you guys to know these inside and out. We'll also be working on some fundamentals as well. Finally, expect another two of those practice quarters throughout the next two weeks. I expect the same effort you displayed here today."

"YES COACH!"

"Alright, sound off."

We stood up and put our hands together.

"WE ARE THE ROOSTERS! ROOSTERS! WE ARE THE ROOSTERS! ROOSTERS! AND THAT'S WHAT WE COCK-A-DOODLE-DOOOOOOOOO!"

With that, we were dismissed, and everyone started to walk towards the locker room. I went over to Coach, who was looking over something on his clipboard. He noticed me coming over.

"Lincoln, something you need?"

I swallowed whatever nervousness I had. I had to know. "Coach, is the reason you put me on the Defense is to give the other Defense players a kick into gear?"

Coach knelt down and looked at me eye level. "To be frank, I wasn't expecting that of you?"

Something on my face must have given me away before Coach held up his hand.

"Lincoln, let me explain. I never expected you to turn the others around because I didn't put you on Defense for that reason. I really felt that letting you be a wide receiver on an Offense that already has so many ways to score would make you… redundant, you know what that word means, right?"

I nodded my head.

"Well, I figured that putting you on the Defense would let you do more good for the team, ever since I saw how you masterfully predicted that last play. The feeling that I made the right decision was seeing you play against Terrence today. I don't think I've ever seen Terrence playing a run game as long as he had to."

He shook his head.

"But we're getting off topic. Either way, the point is the attitude problem that the other players on the Defense had was their problem, not yours. Still, you did a good job, and you deserve a pat on the back on it."

I nodded. "Thanks, Coach."

He nodded back. "Go hit the showers, Lincoln." With that, he walked away.

Walking back into the locker room, I found the rest of the team waiting for me.

"Uh...Is there something I missed?"

Everyone looked at each other, before the Defense stepped forward with Thomas at the helm.

Thomas nodded to me. "Cap."

I raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"You're the Defense captain." Terrence said as he stepped up, a small smile on his lips. "What's else is there to say?"

"Aren't you the Captain?" I asked.

Terrence shrugged. "I doesn't bother me. Might even be better with two perspectives instead of one. Either way, you want the position?"

I searched deep inside me. What did I want to do?

I found my answer.

I stepped up on a nearby bench and looked around.

"For the past three games, the Defense has been letting the other team get points, always making it a close game. At this point, every other team has probably heard of us and think of us as easy points."

I smirked.

"How about next game, we prove them wrong?"

"SOUNDS GREAT!" "LET'S DO IT!" "HECK YEAH!"

As the defense erupted into cheers, I kept the smile on my face.

Defense Captain. Can't be that hard.


	12. Down 11 - Debut

I'm thinking about taking a small break from this story. If I don't write another update some time next week, then assume that it is next next week.

With that said, RESPONSES!

Gamelover41592: Okay, I'll check it out some time.

That Engineer: We'll put in the 'under consideration' pile.

1: You'll see.

DarthWill3: HERE HE IS, THE RISING SUPERSTAR, LINCOLN LOUD! *CUTESY ANIME MUSIC*

Random reference aside, yeah, I got plans for the Hockers.

364wii: Haven't seen that episode yet.

DreadedCandiru2: Well, there's that option in the future.

DJTimmer: Thanks, dude. And yeah, the difficulties aren't over yet for Lincoln.

T: Yeah, Lincoln managed to exert that much pressure on them Thanks for the compliment.

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the Loud House.**

* * *

...You know, when I said that it probably wasn't going to be that hard that day when we first did that practice down and the Defense made me their Captain?

I still stand by that statement, though I would change it.

In the past two weeks since my appointment, I slowly learned what it meant to be Captain, which really didn't mean much. Sure, it was like a promotion in terms of where you were on the pecking order of the team, but otherwise, there really weren't any official duties that the Captain had to do. Every day, I thank goodness that Terrence set me straight about what the position wanted from me.

I had already had to work my butt off doing homework in the spare time I had, and I honestly didn't need more work on my schedule. Well… at least more work that I had taken on.

I mean, even if there were no official things that the Captain had do, there was still part of me that still felt like I had to do something to justify their decision.

I yawned, my jaw opening so wide that I covered it with my hand as I leaned back in my chair. Feeling something pop in my spine, my eyes widened as I stayed still for a moment. Relaxing when I realized that I hadn't broken my spine, I stood up and stretched a bit, looking over all the work that I had done.

For the past couple of days, after I got done with my homework, I would research everything I could on the other team that were going to play tomorrow.

If there was anything that I learned from all the practice quarters that I had did over the past two weeks, it was that I still wasn't anything physically impressive compared to everyone else who had been already exercising long before the start of the season. Sure, I was improving, but overall, I wasn't going to be the next Usain Bolt. Honestly, though, wouldn't be surprised if Patrick was going to be the next 'Fastest Man in the World', come to think of it.

So, if I wanted to succeed in this game, to make my mark, I had to become the 'Man with the Plan' in a way that I had never became before. And every good planner knows, all the good plans start with information.

Take for example the team that we were going to play tomorrow, the Pontiac Punters. I have to admit, when I first heard about our opponents, I thought that they were a team that were focused around the kick, which when I thought about it, sounded pretty unfair. I had heard about a move called an onside kick, where the kicker in a kickoff kicks the ball short on purpose so that their team can get the ball back, and if they do that again and again…

Anyways, getting off track.

But turns out that the Pontiac Punters' main strength and claim to fame and their current 4-0 record was their defense. Reading comments and all the blurry youtube videos that I could find, I agreed. From what I saw, the Punters' defense was practically a brick wall, if the bricks were made of people.

Still, as fearsome as their defense was, I could still see a few weaknesses. And I didn't mean just the few holes in their formations and executions that I knew Terrence, Patrick and the rest of the Offense were going to exploit the heck out of.

The Punters' Offense were cautious, and I could see why they were, because it worked for them. From what I could tell, the Punters' Offense favored the run game, decreasing the chances for an interception and slowly making their way every time to a first down. Even if they never went for massive yard gain, they still gained yards, and I think it was also to buy time for their famous defense to get some rest.

It was a good strategy, though it did come with its downsides.

First, the strategy made the Offense way too timid to actually try anything more daring. When it came down to it, the Punters would value securing their own positions rather than trying to improve it. From what I gathered, the Punters led the Michigan Pee Wee Football league in the most 4th quarter conversions for a single team.

Second, they were focusing on the Defense. Sure, it was important to make sure that the other team didn't get any points, or at least make sure that the other team don't get as many points as you do (we have had plenty of times where if the Defense had stopped the other team's Offense from getting another touchdown, we would have had it so close to the wire). But you have to admit that trying to focus on Defense when the goal is to score points feels pretty dumb.

I mean, I would understand if the Punters' Defense could also intercept balls and take it to the end zone to score. But, I was not kidding when I said that the Punters' Defense was like a wall made of people, because they were people that might as well be walls. Seriously, were they even our age? Still, there was no way that they could take it to the end zone, and even if they did, they would probably have to spend a lot of energy just to get it there.

Either way, they were the team that we were versing, and this was going to be the game that we are going to debut the new and improved Rooster Defense.

But that's going to happen tomorrow. For now, I need a break.

My stomach grumbled.

And a snack.

Walking to my door, I opened it up…

"LANA! COME HERE AND TAKE YOUR BATH!"

"NO!"

Out of the twins' room, an absolutely dirty Lana ran out with Dad chasing her. I stared at them running around the hall, while I heard everyone else wisely staying out of the mess. Finally, the two started running towards me, and I realized that the stairs were right next to me.

"LINCOLN, STOP LANA!"

"LINCOLN, COME ON, MAN!"

I weighed my options before settling on one. I shifted into position, bending my knees and bringing my hands out as wide as I could. I stared at Lana as she slowed in front of me.

"Sorry, Lana. You're getting in the tub."

For a moment, Lana looked like I had betrayed her, before her expression settled into determination. The world seemed to get blurry besides the two of us as we stared at each other, ready for one to make a move. She moved to the left, and I followed suit. She smirked as she started to cut to my other side, not paying attention to the fact that my feet hadn't moved. I reached out…

"GOTCHA!" Dad cried out as he grabbed Lana. Lana screamed out and tried to squirm out of Dad's hands, but Dad kept his grip tight as the two walked towards the bathroom.

"COME ON, DAD! I PROMISE I'LL BATH LATER!" Lana pleaded as she continued to squirm.

"NOPE, YOU'RE TAKING A BATH TODAY! AND I'M PRETTY SURE YOU SAID THAT SAME THING LAST WEEK!" Dad responded.

"GAH!"

I watched as the two entered the bathroom and closed the door behind them.

Well, then.

Walking down the stairs and entering the living room, I saw Lynn sitting on the couch, her eyes glued to the TV and the football game that was on. Around her, Lori was texting on her phone while Luan was practicing tying balloon animals. I waved to everyone as I reached to the bottom of the stairs.

"Hey, guys."

I got a few greetings back as I ventured into the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, I looked around and considered my options. Then I shrugged and took out the sauerkraut and peanut butter. I looked down at the items in my hands.

I set the two items on the counter, before grabbing the whole wheat bread.

Taking two slices of bread on a plate, I spread the peanut butter on one slice of bread, before putting a heaping amount of sauerkraut on top. Taking the other piece of bread, I put it on top and pat it to make sure that the sauerkraut spread out throughout the sandwich. Taking a bite of the sandwich, I thoughtfully chewed for a moment before swallowing.

I guess this was okay.

"Hey, Lincoln."

I turned around. Lynn was there.

"Hey, Lynn. What's up?"

She raised an eyebrow as she crossed her arms. "What's up? WHAT'S UP?! You've been in your room all day, and we don't have much time!"

"Time?" I asked as I took another bite. Man, I really needed this sandwich. "For what?"

"What, did you already forget? I'm gonna teach you more of my good luck things, so you get more of an edge tomorrow. SO COME ON!"

Lynn grabbed me by the arm and started to drag me towards the backyard. I pulled back.

"COME ON!" Lynn said as she started pulling on my arm.

"Give me a moment!" I said as I put my sandwich back on the plate. "Okay, now I'm fine."

As the two of us entered the backyard, I did my best to hide my growing grimace as Lynn started to do some stretches. I really hope that what Lynn had in mind wasn't as painful as her other 'good luck ritual.' Speaking of which…

"Lynn, do I really need to learn this? I mean, I already do the whole 'no number two until number one' thing." 'Well, I don't, but what you don't know won't hurt me.'

Lynn turned to me. "Well...That's good enough for a start, but we can do better. Okay, here is the 'Good Luck Dance', patent pending. First, crouch."

I followed her movements, crouching down.

"Then bring your leg out like it…" She said as she stuck her leg out. I followed along, also trying to keep my balance as well.

"Then tuck that leg in and quickly switch to the other leg like...THIS!" Lynn said as she switched to the other leg. I followed along, only to fall onto my side.

"That's alright. It took me a while to get the hang of it too. Try again."

At Lynn's encouragement, I got up and crouched down again. As I was stretching out my leg, I took a deep breath and concretated. One… Two… THREE!

I jumped up a little, tucking in my first leg and stretching out my other leg and landing on the ground. As I did, I wobbled a bit, nearly falling down. At the last second I regained my balance, holding out my arms for balance. Lynn grinned.

"That's it, Lincoln. Do that a couple of times and then do it rapidly!"

I blinked. "Huh?"

"Like this!" Lynn crouched down, before kicking her feet out, alternating between both of them while crossing her arms. I recognized it as the dance she would do before each pitch Lynn would do in softball. More than that…

"Wait, isn't that the Russian Kick Dance?"

Lynn looked at me confused. "What? No, this is totally something I came up on my own. Okay, I might have seen something like it on TV once, but it's totally all me. Anyways, this one really works before each pitch for me so… You'll probably have to do it every down you play."

...EVERY DOWN? Are you kidding me?

"Are you kidding me? I can't do that!"

"Lincoln, I promise it will work! Look, how about you do it every two downs?"

"NO."

"Three downs?"

I smacked my palm against my face before dragging it down past my chin, the skin stretching down before returning back to normal as I slid my hand off.

"Lynn… Why do you want me to learn this so badly?" I said, not really expecting an answer.

"Well…" I looked up. Lynn actually looked… vulnerable. And already, I know that Lynn would want me to never tell anyone, otherwise she would totally induct me into the Hall of Pain.

"It's kinda weird, you know. I'll be on the sidelines, while you will be playing on the field. It'll be my first time doing something like this. So you can say… I just want to know that I've done everything I could to help you on the field." Lynn looked at me, a plea in her eyes. "So...Can you please do it?"

I wanted to say no, but the look in Lynn's eyes made everything that I wanted to say stop in my throat. I looked away for a moment, staring at the leaves as they started to fall from the tree nearby, only to be swept away by the wind. It was starting to become fall.

"Look, how about every time that I come in to play, when Offense and Defense switch, I'll do the dance?"

Lynn stared at me before grinning. "Great!"

I smiled back. "Yeah, maybe they'll be impressed by my dance moves."

I cleared my throat.

"UH! HIS MOVES ARE JUST TOO FUNKY!" I said in a different voice. "REF, WE SURRENDER!"

"HA! Every time, I hope that doesn't happen. Alright, Lincoln, we got plenty of time to sharpen your dance, so come on! LET'S SEE WHAT YOU GO!"

Well… I could probably use a break out of my studies for the time being.

* * *

As Vanzilla rolled into the parking lot of the football field, I looked around and took in the energy that hanged in the air. Everyone was walking around, getting their seats and their snacks. Parents were talking with their kids, with other parents, and vice versa. The school bus that probably brought the Punters here was parked over by the corner.

I spotted Clyde with his dads carrying a bucket of popcorn and some drinks. He noticed Vanzilla and me sitting near the window and waved at me. I waved back at him.

Lisa sighed as she looked out the window. "You'll never see this effort and care lavished upon a science exhibition. What a waste."

I pointedly ignored her.

"Boy!" Dad said as he looked around. "Looks like this place is packed. How about you guys go find us some seats and I'll go find a parking spot?"

Everyone agreed, and soon Dad dropped us off before going off to find a parking spot that wasn't occupied.

"Alright, I'm going to go too. The rest of the team is going to practice. I'll see you later."

"Go beat the other team, Lincoln!" Lana cheered.

Lucy nodded. "May triumph bare you on her dark wings."

"Poo-poo!" Lily agreed.

"You better give a good showing out there. I'm not missing my shows just so I could see you lose." Lola said, pointing a finger at me.

"Break a leg, dude!" Luna called out, only for Leni to gasp in shock.

"No, she didn't mean literally, Leni." Lori said.

"Yeah," Luan chimed in. "Though, not exactly the best thing you could have said. I guess you can say that you kind of 'dropped the ball' on that one. HA HA, get it?"

I groaned. "Okay, I'm going now." I said as I stiffly turned around, mentally aching at that pun.

Walking towards our team's locker room, I opened the door to be greeted by the sound of my team, talking and laughing with each other as they got dressed in their uniforms. A few of the team noticed me and started to come over. I smiled as I greeted all of them.

"Yo, Lincoln, how are you, man?"

"Pretty good, Ray."

"WE'RE TOTALLY GONNA BEAT THOSE PUNTERS, RIGHT?!"

"Totally are, Jack."

Thomas came up and started to push back the others. "Come on, guys. Lincoln didn't even get a chance to get changed."

I mentally took a breath of relief as I started to go to my spot.

"Hey, dude."

I turned around to see Patrick fully dressed in his uniform. "Patrick, you're fully dressed?"

"Yeah." He said. "Figured I go ahead and warm up early. See you on the field."

With that, Patrick turned around and pushed the door open-

SMACK! "OW!"

The entire locker room went silent before looking at the the door, where Patrick looked stricken at the other person that just got hit by the door. Now that I thought about it, the person that screamed in pain sounded like a girl, and someone familiar. But who would try to go into a boy's locker room…

"LENI!" I shouted as I came out of the locker room. Leni was sitting on the door with Patrick fretting over my sister.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I didn't see you there! Do you need anything? I can run and get it for you!"

I held out a hand to Patrick, stopping him before he could run off. I knelt down and looked Leni over. From what I could see, there was nothing that looked like she was seriously hurt.

"Leni, you alright?"

Leni looked at me and giggled. "S-Sorry, I was looking for the ladies' room. Guess I should have asked around instead."

"Lincoln?" I turned around to see Patrick looking confused. "Do you know her? Oh, is she alright?"

"Yeah, don't worry. Also, Patrick, this is my sister, Leni. Leni, this is my friend and teammate, Patrick."

Leni lit up as she stood up and looked at Patrick. "Well, hello. I'm Leni, and I have to say, you look so good in your sports uniform, with the red and yellow. Very striking."

Patrick blinked as he seemed to get a better look at Leni. "G-Good? Y-Yeah, it's n-nice to meet you. It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am."

Leni quirked her head to the side as she looked confused at Patrick. "Ma'am? No, my name is Leni. L-E-N-I. Unless my name got changed in the past two minutes… did it, Lincoln?"

"No, Leni." I shook my head. "Patrick's just being polite."

Patrick nodded. "Dad did always tell me to treat a lady with respect."

Leni blushed goodnaturedly. "Aww, that's gentlemanly of you. Thank you."

Patrick nodded and smiled, still blushing a bit. "You're welcome."

Suddenly, a rumbling noise could be heard and Leni looked a little queasy. "Ohh… I really to find the Ladies' room."

"Oh, it's over there." Patrick and me said at the same time. I looked at Patrick and he simply shrugged.

"Oh, thanks guys! Bye, Lincoln. Good luck in today's game." As Leni started to run, she stopped and turned to face Patrick. "OH! Also bye, Patrick. It was nice meeting you and we should totes trade tips on your hair styling because I just love them!"

"Y-You do?"

"Yeah! Bye!" Leni waved over her shoulder before disappearing behind the corner.

"Bye…" Patrick waved back, staring at the spot where Leni was. He continued waving...and waving… and waving.

"Patrick?" I asked, seeing him still wave with a blush still on his face. "Are you okay?"

Patrick blinked before laughing nervously as he dropped his hand. "Y-YEAH, TOTALLY DUDE! Listen… I'm gonna go now."

Before I could talk more, Patrick sped out of the area, practically leaving me in the dust. Staring at the space where Patrick used to be, I weighed my options before shrugging and going back inside to change. He didn't look too sick, and I was sure that Coach would take him aside if he saw anything.

Besides, I still had to change.

"ALRIGHT, BRING IT IN!"

After we got done with our warm ups, we came together. As we did, I looked at the stands. The bleachers were filled, and in one spot, my family spotted me looking back and waved to me. I waved back before I looked back at Coach.

"Let's keep it simple, Roosters." Coach said as he took off his hat, before kneeling down to be with us at eye level. "Today… it's a new day. A new team. You all done your part to make this team better, and for that, you should all be proud of yourself."

A few murmurs of pride left some of my teammates' lips.

"So what do you say, Roosters?" Coach said as he grinned. "How about we celebrate with a win?"

"YEAH!" Everyone cheered.

"OKAY, SOUND OFF!" Coach said as everyone put their hands together.

"WE ARE THE ROOSTERS! ROOSTERS! WE ARE THE ROOSTERS! ROOSTERS! AND THAT'S WHAT WE COCK-A-DOODLE-DOODLE-DOOOOOOOOOOO!"

With that, we raised our hands up, ready for the game to be played. Thankfully, it wasn't long before Terrence and me were called up to the center with the Punters' lead players. As the four of us arrived, Terrence turned to me as the Ref brought up the coin.

"You want to call it?"

"Sure."

The Punters' quarterback gestured to me. Nodding, I looked up at the Ref and the coin he was holding. Thinking of what side the coin would land on, I simply decided to hope for the best.

"Heads."

The Ref nodded before flipping the coin into the air. Flipping from Heads to Tails, the coin landed on the ground. The five of us looked over the coin.

Tails.

"We'll receive." The Punters' quarterback said. The Ref nodded before asking both of us to return to our teams.

"It's our turn to kick. Defense, get ready." I said as the Kick team got out onto the field. As everyone on the Defense warmed up, I thought I heard something from the stands. Looking up, I saw Lynn gesturing to me with her arms closed.

Right…

Looking back at the field, I saw the Kick team managed to get the Punters near their own end zone. That's a pretty dangerous position to be in.

As the Defense got onto the field, I took one more look at Lynn before sighing. Right, here goes nothing. Crouching down, I followed the dance that Lynn spent nearly all of yesterday afternoon drilling into my head as I danced my way to the rest of the Defense. I tried not to mind all the laughter that was coming from the stands.

'And apparently, Number 21 wishes to honor his newly found Russian heritage. Good on you, Loud.'

"All right, guys." I said as I stopped in front of everyone. "Here's the plan…"

I noticed everyone staring at me. "What?"

Thomas spoke. "Loud… What the heck was that?"

I sighed. "I promised my sister that I would do."

"You have a sister?" Number 63, Ray, asked.

I nodded as I pointed to the stand. "Yeah, you see the blonde woman and the brown haired man with barely any hair left? That's my mom and dad. Lynn, that's her name, is the brown haired one-"

Everyone turned to look at Luna.

"With a ponytail."

Everyone looked at Luan.

"Without braces."

Everyone looked at Lynn.

"Yeah, that's her."

A few seconds passed before Thomas' eyes bulged.

"Wait… Are they all your sisters?!"

"Yeah...All ten of them."

The rest of the Defense looked over at the group of people they now knew as my family before looking back at me.

"Dude…" Number 29, Glen, shook his head. "How do you have any room in your house?"

"We managed… But we're getting off track. We can talk about it later because it's game time right now."

Everyone nodded.

"Alright, remember what I said about the Punters' Offense. They're slow and cautious, so let's use that against them. Box them in, don't give them a chance to move, and tighten the noose. Alright, LET'S PLAY!" I said as I thrust my hand into the middle.

"YEAH!" Everyone said as they thrust their own hands into the middle of the group before going into our separate positions in the standard 4-3 defense. We stared across to the Punters' Offense as we waited for the whistle to blow.

TWEET!

The Defense rushed forward, as the Punters' Offensive line. One of the Punters' behind the Quarterback rushed forward, with the Quarterback about ready to hand the ball off. I was ready for anything.

Then the two line collided for a moment, before nearly all the members of the Punters' Offensive line fell backwards as our Defense crushed them.

The whole field was silent, their jaws dropping at the sight. I stopped and stared too, before realizing that the ball holder had stopped too. Rushing forward, I jumped over the fallen line and ran straight for him. The ball holder, realizing I was coming, tried to move but it was too late. I tackled him to the ground.

Right in their end zone.

The Ref blew his whistle and held up his hands. "SAFETY! ROOSTERS TWO POINTS!"

The stands erupted in cheers as I was swamped with the rest of my Defense teammates coming up to me and hugging me, smacking me on the back and helmet, and laughing and cheering all the way. Looking back up at the stands, I saw Lynn giving me a thumbs up as the Defense and me walked back to the the sidelines.

As we did, we passed by the Offense, who were getting ready for their own attack. I raised my hand and high fived Patrick as we passed by each other.

"Break a leg, man."

"I intend to."

I looked at him weirdly. Patrick realized what he had said.

"I mean, I plan to do great out there, you know what I mean."

I nodded and got out of his way. As I got back to the sidelines and watched the Offense get into formation for the kick, Coach came near me.

"So Loud… When did you get into Russian dancing?"

I shrugged. "Just did it as a favor for my sister. Supposed to be a good luck thing."

Coach nodded. "Alright, just be sure that you don't try to substitute good luck for training."

"Don't worry, I don't plan to."

It was then that the Punters kicked the ball towards the Offense. Patrick looked up and reached out, catching the ball. As the Punters' Defense came closer, they were blocked by the rest of the Offense. Bit by bit, second by second, the Offense left a path open for Patrick.

Then… Patrick ran.

The Defense might as well have been rocks. When one tried to block Patrick's way, he quickly changed his direction. When another blocker tried to reach out to catch him, his hand was short by feet.

Either way, it made no difference. Patrick ran onto the end zone and dropped the ball as the Ref blew his whistle and held up his hands.

"TOUCHDOWN!"

As the rest of the Offense came to cheer on Patrick, Patrick held up his index finger in the air, letting the crowd cheer him.

I saw his dad in the stands, cheering just as hard as everyone else. From what I could see, he smiled at his dad before seemingly looking for something or someone else. Apparently, he found it and started to blush again.

I thought he was looking in my sisters' direction before clearing my mind. The Defense were up again, and it was clear that the Punters' Offense were getting antsy. They knew that this was a game where being passive was not going to work. If they wanted to score points, they had to get aggressive.

Problem was, as the kick was confirmed and everyone was getting into position, it was clear that the Punters didn't have much experience being aggressive. There were too many holes in their formation, and the Quarterback didn't look comfortable in this new mindset.

Part of me felt sorry for their position, before I shoved that feeling down. Now wasn't the time to be sorry for them. At a disadvantage or not, they were our opponents.

And we were here to beat our opponents.

* * *

I stared at the scoreboard in between saying 'good game' to the players of the Punters as we crossed each other in single file.

47-0. What a debut.

I looked back at the lines and the expressions on both teams' faces. The Roosters were practically on cloud nine, understandable since they had gotten the best score they gotten in the season so far and everything had gone absolutely smoothly. The Punters, on the other hand, looked absolutely humiliated. Their Defense, their greatest strength as a team, had been completely unable to stop our Offense and their Offense had been completely useless.

The part of my heart went out to them.

Finally, after everyone else, I came across the Quarterback of the Punters. I offered him my hand. "Good game, man."

The Quarterback stared at my hand before looking at me. In his eyes, I saw humiliation, but also a desperate want, no, _need_ to improve himself.

"Good game. But watch yourself. Next time, whether that will be in the finals or next season, we'll be **better**."

With that, the quarterback walked away.

"Hey, Loud." Terrence walked up to me. "You okay? The guy didn't give you a hard time, did he?"

I shook my head. "No." I was thinking about what he said.

"Hey, Terrence?"

Terrence looked at me. "Yeah?"

"What's the finals?"

Terrence whistled. "What, you forgot?"

Must have been something that was said at the beginning of the season. "More like wasn't paying in the first place."

Terrence nodded as he got what I was telling him. "Well, the finals is the best 16 teams of the Michigan PeeWee League playing it out for the championship title. That...is where we're heading."

I considered his words. "Championship, huh?"

Terrence nodded. "Yup."

He looked to the side, before grimacing. "Aw, man."

I looked at him puzzled. "What's wrong?"

He turned his head, shielding his eyes. "Those guys are here. Just… don't pay attention to them."

I looked over at what Terrence was looking at. Over at the stands, two guys stood out, mostly because I thought they were twins. One was brown skinned and had bangs that hid his eyes from view, while the other was lighter skinned with a mohawk. They looked more like boulders than people, with the thickest bodies I think I've ever seen that were Ross' height.

They noticed me and sneered, with the mohawk'd one showing that he was missing one of his front teeth.

I looked away.

Whoever they were, they could wait.

For now, it was nice to enjoy our victory.


End file.
